Books · Literature · Novels

Close My Eyes

By Sophie McKenzie

Author Geniver Loxley (Gen) has spent nearly eight years trying to have a child with her husband, Art. She has been through cycles of IVF trying to conceive to no avail. Art seems to be constantly pressuring her to more and different treatment, that might help them start a family together.

Maybe I shouldn’t say start a family, rather start another family. Before the years of treatment Gen and Art had a child, a baby girl they named Beth. But Beth, delivered by caesarian section to the couple, in an expensive, private clinic, was stillborn. Or so Gen had always believed until a female stranger turns up out of the blue on the Loxleys’ doorstep claiming that their child could still be alive.

Gen begins to investigate the possibility that her child might not be dead after all. This does not sit well with her husband who, it seems, has come to terms with the original loss and does not want a painful past raked up again. Along with Art, Gen’s best friend Hen, try to dissuade her from investigating, apparently fearing for her state of mind.

Geniver Loxley’s investigation, unsurprisingly, ruffles feathers and at one point this results in Gen herself being accused of murder. What, if any, good can come of pursuing her investigations?

McKenzie weaves a complex tale, told in the first person through the eyes of Geniver Loxley. This story probably would not make easy reading to anyone in a family who has suffered a stillbirth. It is not a book I enjoyed. Had it not been a title of the book club I go to, I probably wouldn’t have finished it, or even started it.

P.s. look for nods toward the Arthurian Legend

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