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Never believe it, Hal. Never believe your own patter. The actor who loses his grip on reality, the writer who believes her own lies—they’re lost. This is a fantasy—never lose sight of that, however much you want to believe.
Hal (short for Harriet) has a big problem. She is barely making ends meet and Mr. Smith’s goons are after her for the money she owes them. Then comes a letter in the mail from a lawyer telling her that her grandmother has died and she is a beneficiary. Could Hal’s money problems be over?
Hal knows it can’t be true because her grandmother has been dead for twenty years. But if she plays her cards right (unintentional pun — she reads tarot cards), maybe she could pretend to be the grand daughter and receive a small sum of money to pay off the loan shark that knows where she lives and where she works.
The main character Hal is very well developed— we really get to know her and her hopes, fears and struggles. She reads Tarot Cards and the cards are a theme and a metsphor throughout the book. Mainly Hal is conflicted between deceiving her newly found three uncles and telling the truth. She struggles with morality but at the same time fears for her life.
Along with her, we meet her three uncles, Harding, Abel and Ezra, as well as the very creepy housekeeper Mrs. Warren. They all stay at Mrs. Westaway’s home — Trepassen House, a Gothic, run down, creepy house with a lake and a boathouse. Hal is assigned to the only room vacant, a tiny attic room with bars on the windows and bolts on the outside of the door. Scary!
This is the best one yet of Ruth Ware’s novels — they just keep getting better and better. The story is well paced and kept me turning the pages — I was surprised by the twists and enjoyed the ending. The writing is good and I particularly liked the metaphors she sprinkled throughout the book:
Gently, Hal picked it up and began to leaf through the pages. Great chunks had been ripped out—frayed stubs of paper all that was left of their existence—and the pages that were left were hanging by a thread, unanchored by the loss of their neighbors.
I wanted to write in my diary—to do as I always do when things get too much—let it out onto the page, like a kind of bloodletting, letting the ink and paper soak up all the grief and anger and fear until I can cope again.
The explanation of Tarot cards throughout the story is an added bonus. Although I consider The Death of Mrs. Westaway to be more of a mystery than a thriller, the ride was still entertaining and engaging. I can’t wait for the next one from Ruth Ware, a great story-teller.
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