It’s hard to believe that this is a debut novel: also the first Dutch author to be longlisted for the Booker.

It is set in the summer of 1961 in the Netherlands and told from the perspective of Isabel, a single woman living in her familial home. She tended her mother through her illness, and now that she has died, Isabel is all alone.

Isabel had never know loneliness like that, one that arrived without the promise of leaving. There was no one now, no one to walk through the door unannounced, no one to open and close a drawer in the other room. Outside, meadows. Outside, land and more land. Isabel sat by the window with a cup of tea and was overcome. Terror rose up slow and thunderous: Mother had died so quickly, so easily, and Isabel had had no say in it. Her uncle might die, too, just as suddenly. The deed will go to Louis, and Louis might decide to marry, and Louis might decide he wanted her out - anything could happen at any given moment and she had no say in it, not in any of it. She belonged to the house in the sense that she had nothing else, no other life than the house, but the house, by itself, did not belong to her.

Louis is her older brother, and the house is his, so when he dumps his latest girlfriend on the doorstep, asking (telling?) Isabel she must stay with her in the house for the season, Isabel has no say in it at all. Eva is the complete opposite to Isabel, and she finds her presence an intrusion and assault on her tranquil life. She gets up late, she walks with a heavy gait, she touches everything, and is constantly talking, and asking Isabel questions she doesn’t want to answer.

As the heat of summer builds, unknown and unforeseen passions arise. Fair warning, dear reader, this book is steamy! But please, if this makes you uncomfortable, don’t give up on this lyrical novel that explores so much more. There is a twist in this tale, which took my breath away. You think you know where the author is going, but all is not what it seems. Look over your shoulder, the past is closer than we imagine.

There were some sentences that I have underlined in my copy of this book, for their sheer beauty, that I must share:
‘…the earliest of twilight was pulling the sky from a robin’s-egg blue to a blush. A wind rose, trees along the path gossiping with shaking leaves.’
‘How quickly did the belly of despair turn itself over into hope, the give of the skin of overripe fruit.’
‘There isn’t a version of me that could’ve looked away from you.’

For aspiring writers, in the acknowledgements Yael shares how she came about writing the novel. She was attending an online writing workshop and given an assignment to
‘“write a scene around a major elephant in the room”. I opened a document, titled it, “siblings go out for dinner,” wrote the opening sentence, “no one knew where Louis had dug up this girl”, and then forgot about it for a full year. Isn’t that a good reminder? Maybe that note you just scribbled down will end up being the heart of a story.’

I loved this gem of a book. It’s only 258 pages, and yet feels languid and unrushed. It is lyrically written, and contains so many truths about family, and love, and passion, about loneliness, and acceptance.

Highly recommended.