Four mothers, Nathalie, Alexandra, Emmie and Pen take a holiday together with their children at a faded Art Deco style hotel in a remote valley west of the Blue Mountains run by Macie, an old school friend of Alexandra. From the outset, it is clear that there is something eerie about the place and the isolated mining ghost town where it is located.

The current day narrative is told from the points of view of the four women. A past narrative tells the story of another woman, Jean, who has an encounter at the hotel in 1948 that has a bearing on what will happen to the others.

Each mother has personal issues to deal with. Pen is a single parent who has difficulty relating to her sensitive son; Nathalie is trying to save a faltering marriage; Alexandra lives in the shadow of a famous husband; Emmie longs for another child and also risks the group friendship with her social media postings.

The novel takes a while to get into its stride as you become familiar with the individuals and learn about the mysterious disappearances linked to the hotel’s history. When one of the mothers also vanishes, the pace picks up.

As with many other novels of this genre, all the effort seems to be concentrated in slowly building the suspense with not enough attention paid to detail in the final resolution. The rushed conclusion almost feels like a postscript with unanswered questions. Otherwise, an enjoyable well-paced read.
 
Three-and-a-half stars.
 
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Booktopia

​Sometimes it may be simply a haunting cover image or lyrical title of a book that captures my interest and this one has both. Also, there is something about tales of remote and isolated communities that have always fascinated me, as they clearly did the author, and the book is based around the true story of the last people to live on the island of Hirta in the St Kilda archipelago, off the west coast of Scotland. They had been self-sufficient for centuries until a dwindling population and the modern world caught up with them.
 
The story weaves back and forth between the 1940s war in France and St Kilda in 1927-1930. Escaped prisoner, Fred Lawson, is on the run from the Germans and memories of his great love, Chrissie Gillies, help to sustain him through the worst experiences. Likewise, Chrissie has never stopped dreaming of being reunited with Fred, even although they parted over a complicated misunderstanding that was never resolved.
 
Although I’m not normally a fan of the multi-time narrative, in this case the quality of the writing and characters are so absorbing that it doesn’t intrude on one’s enjoyment. The thoughtfulness, observations and evocation of place are sheer beauty. This is both a tender love story and a spine-tingling hymn to a place and people changed by time and history.
 
Just a couple of examples of the prose here: the first is Fred trying to come to terms with the island when he experiences it as young archaeology student investigating what the locals called the Fairies’ House, but really a structure that could date back to the bronze age.
 
 ‘… then gales set in. Giants of dark waves up to sixty feet high, streaming with white spindrift, crashed against the cliffs or folded themselves into great molten barrels of water as they thundered towards the Village Bay. One truly felt what it was to be up against the wrath of the elements. And it was sobering to experience the island’s isolation in bad weather. Imagine a hill farm of some four square miles dropped in the middle of an Atlantic swell that even the sturdiest boats would think twice to sail and you have the situation of St Kilda.’
 
And when Fred and Chrissie argue about beliefs:
 
‘ “How can you talk of the love of God when you are barely clinging on to life here on your rock? When the winter storms your God sends are so damaging and vengeful. Is this the same pally sort of God you catch sight of as you roam across the hills in summer? Which one is he? Now come on, Chrissie. Where’s the logic?”
 
Then my heart broke for him, since I understood well that he was talking about himself and the storms that left him alone in the world. All I could do then was quietly take his hand in mine, if we were alone together, to let him know all I wanted to say. That he might know the comfort of His nearness as it breaks through the day, borne on the sun and the wind. You are loved and you are not alone, I wanted to say, through storms and through hard times, you are very greatly loved.’
 
 
 
Five stars
 
 
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Booktopia