From a promising young author, a gripping psychological debut novel in the tradition of The Secret History and The Big Chill.
After the suicide of his uncle, Lucas Heathfield inherits Stoneborough Manor in Oxfordshire. His best friend Joanna imagines it as a place where their tight-knit group of friends can escape London and rekindle the revelry of their college days. But from the beginning, the house has a strange effect on everyone who stays there. Much to Joanna's surprise, she embarks on a romantic relationship with Lucas, who has loved her for many years, and watches as he becomes haunted by the death of his uncle and obsessed by the house's past, a past that hints at disturbing parallels between the generations who have inhabited it.
Meanwhile Lucas's other close friend, Danny, sees the house as an opportunity. In spite of Joanna's objections, he moves in and sets about using Lucas's new wealth to his own advantage. But the longer the pair spends at Stoneborough, the more they lose perspective on the real world and the morals that apply there. Danny's charm causes casual devastation amongst the group, a process almost as alarming to Joanna as his identification of with Lucas's charismatic dead uncle, Patrick, and his fascination with Justin, Lucas's dead father.
Within the claustrophobic confines of the manor over a hot, decadent summer, secrets slide out and sexual tensions escalate, shattering the group's friendship and changing their lives forever.
All copies of this title, including those transferred to portable devices and other media, must be deleted/destroyed at the end of the lending period.
Excerpts
From the book
...
CHAPTER I
Even now, I can remember the first time I saw the house as clearly as if there were a video of it playing in my head. Danny, Martha, and I had driven up from London together, the force of our collective will keeping my elderly Citroen from one of its increasingly frequent breakdowns. Cold night air had forced its way into the car around the loose windowpanes as I coaxed it along at speeds for which I could feel it reproaching me. I think we all had a feeling of adventure that evening, leaving the city as so many other people had been pouring into it, going against the tide. Lucas's directions had been easy to follow until the last part. We came off the motorway and soon were lost in the maze of minor roads that laced across southern Oxfordshire.A part of me was glad;I wanted to be ready before seeing him, but the miles had disappeared too quickly. The half hour we spent shuttling along the same dark lanes again and again had given me time to think. Finally I pulled up at the side of the road in the village we had been circling.
Danny leaned forward between the seats."This place is like the end of the world."
He was right. Even for a village, Stoneborough was nothing. The cottages, five or six of them huddled together, had an empty air; only one was showing any light, the blue wash of television seeping through the net curtain in an upstairs window.There was a pond,its edges sharp with frozen reeds, and a village green that was little more than a patch of crisp white grass. No one had been across it since the dew fell.
"We can't go round again," I said. "We're going to have to ask."
"Can't we call him?" said Martha.
"There's no reception."
Across the road was a pub called the White Swan, a squat stone building whose roof covered it like an oversized hat. The upper windows looked out slyly from underneath. On the ground floor the curtains were drawn, but a rim of yellow light was visible around them.
"It's like the place doesn't want to be found," said Martha. She opened the passenger door and got out. Her usual long stride curtailed by the cocktail dress that clung tightly above her knees, she crossed the beam of the headlights and went in.
The radio was too loud now that the car had stopped so I turned it off.Danny leaned forward again."It had better not be much further.It's gone nine--I'm dying for a drink." His breath carried an unmistakable whisky tang.
"You've been taking nips from that hip flask all the way. I've seen you in the rearview." I twisted round to look at him. The light from the pub's carriage lamp cast the planes of his face into sharp relief. He looked elfish.
"It's New Year's Eve, Joanna."
"Light me a cigarette, will you?" I asked. "Mine are in the boot." He rummaged around among the newspapers on the backseat and found the packet. The match flared and died. "Thanks."
"Your hands are shaking."
"Are they?" I held one out flat and observed my fingers in the light from the dash."Maybe it's the thought of the big house.These things intimidate English teachers' daughters, you know." I shrugged and wound down the window to blow out the smoke. It was a policy I had developed with Danny: to reveal my weakness rather than give him the pleasure of discovering it himself.
"That's one of the things I like about you. You're always so honest about your humble beginnings." He sat back and started flicking through old text messages on his mobile.
"It'll be a thrill for me to be allowed above stairs."
Martha came out of the pub, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind her. "That way, about a mile on. I think we...
Synopsis
From a promising young author, a gripping psychological debut novel in the tradition of The Secret History and The Big Chill.
After the suicide of his uncle, Lucas Heathfield inherits Stoneborough Manor in Oxfordshire. His best friend Joanna imagines it as a place where their tight-knit group of friends can escape London and rekindle the revelry of their college days. But from the beginning, the house has a strange effect on everyone who stays there. Much to Joanna's surprise, she embarks on a romantic relationship with Lucas, who has loved her for many years, and watches as he becomes haunted by the death of his uncle and obsessed by the house's past, a past that hints at disturbing parallels between the generations who have inhabited it.
Meanwhile Lucas's other close friend, Danny, sees the house as an opportunity. In spite of Joanna's objections, he moves in and sets about using Lucas's new wealth to his own advantage. But the longer the pair spends at...
Reviews
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Lucie Whitehouse knows her BRIDESHEAD REVISITED and has here reused some of its parts, yet created something with a memorable life of its own. Lucas Heathfield, a 20-something Oxford graduate, inherits a grand country house after his charismatic Uncle Patrick's bewildering suicide. He invites his tight circle of college pals to share the house with him. Soon they are all spending every weekend there, falling in and out of love with each other, while the house develops a disturbing hold on them, especially on Lucas and the manipulative charmer, Danny. Kate Reading's pacing is impeccable as she builds the characters' sense of dread and the listener's sense that some kind of complicated smash is coming, echoing past disaster. Reading excels in this gripping psychological puzzle. B.G. (c) AudioFile 2008, Portland, Maine
John Connolly, author of The Book of Lost Things...
"The House at Midnight is a stunning piece of modern gothic. Gripping, accomplished, and ultimately mesmerizing, it represents the arrival of a major literary talent."
Susan Hill, author of The Pure in Heart...
"A book that holds you, and an atmosphere which has you in thrall."
Barbara Trapido, author of Frankie & Stankie...
"Gripping and accomplished."
Kate Saunders, author of The Little Secret...
"A fine piece of high gothic, as dark and delicious as bitter chocolate, and also a moving lament for the loss of youth. Whitehouse is an English middle-class Donna Tartt, skillfully building layers of menace. I was spellbound."
Joanna Briscoe, author of Sleep with Me...
"Atmospheric and compelling--an impressive debut."
Lesley Glaister, author of Losing It...
"An exciting, romantic, gripping story of secrets and suspense--at once modern and classic in its form and content. I predict a big hit!"
