‘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
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
A very satisfying read with a clever twist. I loved it
Magical and often extremely moving. A gem
Moody and atmospheric - and just as compelling [as Daphne du Maurier] . . . Tense, thrilling and a true page-turner
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
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
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 gorgeous, darkly gothic treat
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
Brilliant characterisation, beautiful and mesmerising story: like entering a dream. I was spellbound and couldn't do anything else but keep reading