The Water Child by Mathew West

I enjoyed Mathew West’s first novel, The House of Footsteps, an eerie ghost story set in the 1920s, so I was looking forward to reading his new book, The Water Child. It’s quite different, in both setting and tone, but overall I liked this one as well.

The Water Child is set in Portugal in 1754. Cecilia Lamb is anxiously awaiting the return of her husband John, a Scottish sea captain, who has been away on his latest voyage for much longer than expected. It seems likely that the ship has been wrecked and John is dead, but Cecilia hasn’t given up hope. She spends her days wandering the docks, staring out to sea, certain that her husband is still out there somewhere.

As a young woman alone in an unfamiliar country, this is a difficult time for Cecilia and she struggles to come to terms with John’s absence, beginning to have visions, to hear voices and to suffer from a mysterious sickness. Until she knows for certain that her husband won’t come back, she is unable to mourn or to make arrangements to return to her own family in England – and even if he does come back, will he still be the same person he was when he went away?

Mathew West writes beautifully and creates an almost hypnotic atmosphere as Cecilia moves from one day to the next as if in a dream, watching and waiting, trapped in time until she receives some definite news and can start to move forward. Despite the long absence of her husband (and I’m not going to tell you whether he ever reappears or not), Cecilia does form other relationships – with her maid, Rosalie, and with some other women who understand what it’s like to be the wife of a sailor, while at the same time not fully understanding what is going on inside Cecilia’s mind. West’s previous book had much stronger supernatural elements, but in this one they’re a lot more subtle and it’s open to interpretation whether you think the things Cecilia sees and hears have paranormal explanations or more practical ones.

There are some lovely and vivid descriptions of 1750s Portugal, so I was intrigued by Mathew West’s comments at the end of the book that the Portugal he describes probably never existed and owes as much to fantasy as reality, although he also says that he carried out a lot of research into certain details. I don’t have much knowledge of Portugal in that period (the only other book I’ve read with the same setting is Linda Holeman’s novel, The Devil on Her Tongue), so I would have been interested to hear more about what was real and what was fictional.

There’s one more thing I want to mention; I don’t usually give trigger warnings for books, but there is a brief scene of animal cruelty towards the end of the book which doesn’t really feel necessary and I’m sure the author could have found another way to illustrate the cruelty of the person involved. Otherwise, The Water Child is a dark, unsettling and fascinating novel, slow to begin but picking up pace towards the end. I’ll be interested to see what setting Mathew West chooses next, having written two such different books so far.

Thanks to HarperNorth for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

This is book 46/50 for the 2023 Historical Fiction Reading Challenge.

The House of Footsteps by Mathew West

“You make it sound like I’m on my way to Castle Dracula,” says Simon Christie, the narrator of Mathew West’s debut novel The House of Foosteps, after arriving in the remote village of Cobsfoot during a funeral procession and taking refuge in the nearest tavern where he asks for directions to Thistlecrook House – “a strange place, where the master takes dark, wild moods”. It’s 1923 and Simon has been sent by his auction house to evaluate a collection of rare artworks owned by the Mordrake family – and as he enters Thistlecrook House for the first time and makes the acquaintance of the reclusive, secretive Victor Mordrake, it was Dracula that continued to come to mind.

As I read on, I was reminded of other classic Gothic novels and ghost stories and each chapter seemed to raise more questions than it answered. Who is Amy, the beautiful young woman who sits curled up in a chair in the library every evening, begging Simon not to mention her presence to anyone else in the house? What really happened to Victor’s wife, said to have drowned in a frozen lake on the estate? What causes the dark shadows Simon can see under his bedroom door every night? And why does Victor, a vegetarian who can’t even bear having dead flowers in the house, have a whole collection of paintings depicting violent and macabre biblical scenes?

The answers to some of the novel’s many mysteries are revealed gradually as the story unfolds. Others are still unanswered at the end, leaving the reader to make up their own mind about what exactly was going on at Thistlecrook House. I do sometimes enjoy an ambiguous ending, but in this case I was disappointed that we weren’t given more clarity; I had been so intrigued by some of the strange happenings and really wanted to be given a proper explanation for them! However, I still thoroughly enjoyed reading this book – and until I reached that unsatisfactory ending, I had been going to say that it was one of my favourite reads of the year so far.

The novel has a wonderfully dark and sinister atmosphere and despite being set in the 1920s, the remote location – a rural village in the far north of England, close to the Scottish border – creates the feeling that the story could be taking place in a much earlier period. Although I was sometimes frustrated by Simon’s actions and choices, I was always completely absorbed in his story, wondering who could and could not be trusted and watching the boundaries blur between reality and fantasy. If you’ve enjoyed books like The Woman in Black or The Haunting of Hill House I would recommend giving The House of Footsteps a go.

This is book 8/50 read for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2022.