A GOOD HOUSE FOR CHILDREN

Lives and minds unravel in this dual-timeline gothic horror debut.

English painter Orla McGrath and her husband, Nick, are residing in Bristol with their 4-year-old son, Sam, and infant daughter, Bridie, when Sam stops speaking. Doctors diagnose selective mutism and counsel patience, but domineering Nick declares that a scenery change will help and buys The Reeve, a sprawling, centuries-old home on a remote Dorset cliffside. The patchy cell and internet service worry Orla, as she’ll be alone and carless during the week while programmer Nick stays in the city for work, but Nick insists the isolation will be good for her and her art. That initially proves true, though the atmosphere quickly turns disquieting. Phantom footsteps sound, objects appear and disappear, doors open by themselves, and Sam draws shadowy figures he indicates are friends. Nick refuses to move, however, despite spending more and more time away. Forty years earlier, London nanny Lydia Price relocates to The Reeve when her newly widowed boss, Sara, decides she and her four kids need a fresh start. Though inexplicable phenomena vex Lydia from the outset, including disembodied voices, invisible children’s playmates, and dying birds, Sara scornfully dismisses her concerns. Lydia would love to leave but can’t bring herself to abandon her young charges to the house or their increasingly distant mother. Collins skillfully intercuts the two storylines, making clever use of structure to maximize tension, resonance, and fright, while the familiar setup fools readers into thinking they know what path the plot will follow. A moody, evocative, close-third narrative underscores the keenly rendered characters’ mounting distress and claustrophobia.

A harrowing slow burn with feminist undertones.