A Time for Silence by Thorne Moore

In a gloomy corner of Wales a wreck of a cottage holds the secrets of Sarah's family. Keen to renovate her Grandmother's old home as a weekend retreat, Sarah isn't prepared for what she will find. Her grandmother Gwen was the epitome of dutiful housewife, Gwen's husband John was the pride of the village choir. As Sarah brings the cottage back to life, she hopes to recreate a sense of this unknown family. A mother playing the piano, children dutifully gathered around her knees. A father returning home after a hard day's work in the fields.

As Gwen's voice begins to be woven through the narrative, we soon gather that Sarah's nostalgia grates awkwardly against the truth. The family's quaint cottage was the site of a murder. Sarah's grandfather was shot in his own home. But who was the murderer, and why were they never caught? And why was this kept secret from Sarah for so long? 

Desperate to reveal the truth and keen to avoid confronting her coming wedding, Sarah launches a full-scale investigation. In much the same way, Gwen willfully ignores the dark truths in her own home, determined to show a united, honourable front to the world. Can Sarah solve this mystery alone? And is she ready for what it will reveal?

A Time for Silence is a gripping family drama published by Honno Welsh Women's Press, which strives to promote local female writing. My copy was given to me by my godmother, as Thorne Moore is an old friend of hers. Aware of her natural bias, it took me a few weeks to begin reading. But after a few short chapters I was hooked by the simplicity of the women's voices. 

Thorne Moore captures the importance of the everyday details, conversations and daydreams that make up our lives. Piece by piece, she builds these women's lives until they sneak into our affections. This is especially true for Gwen, a character whom I have next to nothing in common with. The most chilling part of Thorne Moore's skill is the way that she represents evil. Far from a distant, unknowable and easily hated quality, evil exists in the everyday. By documenting the growth of this within a seemingly perfect family, Thorne Moore emulates real life. 

The good news is that she sets this all in the past, soothing the reader with the brightness of Sarah's home improvements. This foray into family research ultimately strengthens Sarah, allowing her to approve the future having learnt from the past. But for me, this didn't lessen the important truth within the novel: that evil is most corrosive when it's buried in everyday, seemingly normal lives.