‘A lyrical examination of how women carve lives out of a male-dominated society, even with a war looming that will change everyone. I was surprised and moved’ Tracy Chevalier
‘With echoes of Daphne du Maurier … a mesmerising ghost story set in a dilapidated country house where things go bump in the night’ Good Housekeeping
June 1914 and a young woman – Clara Waterfield – is summoned to a large stone house in Gloucestershire. Her task: to fill a greenhouse with exotic plants from Kew Gardens, to create a private paradise for the owner of Shadowbrook.
Yet something is wrong with this quiet, wisteria-covered house. Its gardens are filled with foxgloves, hydrangea and roses; it has lily-ponds, a croquet lawn – and the marvellous new glasshouse awaits Clara. But the house itself feels unloved. Its rooms are shuttered, or empty. The owner is mostly absent; the housekeeper and maids seem afraid.
And soon, Clara understands their fear: for something – or someone – is walking through the house at night. In the height of summer, she finds herself drawn deeper into Shadowbrook’s dark interior – and into the secrets that violently haunt this house. Nothing – not even the men who claim they wish to help her – is quite what it seems.
‘With echoes of Daphne du Maurier … a mesmerising ghost story set in a dilapidated country house where things go bump in the night’ Good Housekeeping
June 1914 and a young woman – Clara Waterfield – is summoned to a large stone house in Gloucestershire. Her task: to fill a greenhouse with exotic plants from Kew Gardens, to create a private paradise for the owner of Shadowbrook.
Yet something is wrong with this quiet, wisteria-covered house. Its gardens are filled with foxgloves, hydrangea and roses; it has lily-ponds, a croquet lawn – and the marvellous new glasshouse awaits Clara. But the house itself feels unloved. Its rooms are shuttered, or empty. The owner is mostly absent; the housekeeper and maids seem afraid.
And soon, Clara understands their fear: for something – or someone – is walking through the house at night. In the height of summer, she finds herself drawn deeper into Shadowbrook’s dark interior – and into the secrets that violently haunt this house. Nothing – not even the men who claim they wish to help her – is quite what it seems.
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Reviews
As her heroine faces increasing dangers, Fletcher neatly changes the direction in which her story is heading. What seems initially a tale of the supernatural develops into something more
A very satisfying read with a clever twist. I loved it
House of Glass may start as a ghost story but turns into something much more profound: a lyrical examination of how women carve lives out of a male-dominated society, even with a war looming that will change everyone. I was surprised and moved
Fletcher's prose is dreamily sensual, full of the light and heat of an English summer, an eerie contrast to the shadows of the oncoming First World War . . . House Of Glass is a beautifully written, gloriously Gothic story of gardens, ghosts and old, uneasy grudges
Offers readers many of the pleasures of her earlier work . . . The novel is haunted by secondhand memories of empire and by trees and flowers transplanted from warmer climates, its version of England sustained and undermined by dependence on faraway places
With echoes of Daphne du Maurier, House of Glass is a mesmerising ghost story set in a dilapidated country house where things go bump in the night
Magical and often extremely moving. A gem
A gorgeous, darkly gothic treat
Moody and atmospheric - and just as compelling [as Daphne du Maurier] . . . Tense, thrilling and a true page-turner
Brilliant characterisation, beautiful and mesmerising story: like entering a dream. I was spellbound and couldn't do anything else but keep reading