Book Summary
"Spare Room" is a horror novel by Dreda say Mitchell that unfolds with excitement and mystery throughout. The central location of the story is a room where residents have committed suicide after renting it, and the title of the work is inspired by this. Lisa, the main character, intensifies the mystery upon her arrival as she discovers notes written by a man who had taken his own life in that very place.
The room's owners, Jack and Martha, are likely connected to the events that transpired, prompting Lisa to seek more details about the man's death, particularly about Jack, who has raised her suspicions. The protagonist experiences terrifying anxieties and continues her adventure with fear and trembling. The author beautifully describes Lisa's stress in such a way that readers sometimes doubt whether the events are genuinely happening or merely figments of the characters' imaginations.
As Lisa's past unfolds for the reader, revealing her struggles with friendships and relationships, as well as disorders she faced in her youth, doubts about her thoughts and actions intensify. Nevertheless, as the story progresses, the reader realizes that Lisa has become certain of Jack's intentions and knows he aims to frighten her. The suspense, atmosphere, and deepening events showcase Mitchell's skill, keeping readers engaged until the end.
About the Author
Dreda say Mitchell is a British author born in 1965, with other professional titles including journalism and broadcasting. After earning her master's degree from North London University, Mitchell worked for 20 years as a teacher and advisor focusing on improving educational success for working-class children and ethnic minorities before turning to writing. She has won several awards, including one from the Crime Writers' Association, and has published 11 novels. In 2020, she received another award for her educational work in prisons.
Who Should Read the Book?
Individuals who have always prioritized reading mysterious and intriguing fiction are highly recommended to read "Spare Room" as soon as possible.
Book Quotes
As my anxiety gradually fades, I glance at my watch. It's four-thirty, and I still need to stop by somewhere else. My parents expect me to come to their home in Sari this afternoon. Under normal circumstances, I would refuse their request without question, but these days are anything but normal. If I don’t go and show my face, they will panic and inform relatives. And perhaps even worse, they might call the police. The last thing I need in this situation is for a bunch of my loved ones or law enforcement to start looking for me.
I start the car and set off. The roads are busy and there's traffic, which is actually good. I have to focus on driving and don’t have time for distractions or self-doubt. I exit the M25 motorway, head through Mole Valley, passing by lush farms with plump cows and sheep. I drive past bustling villages, large houses, and big four-wheel-drive vehicles parked in front of them. This is where I grew up in England. Nothing could be more English to me than my parents' house. They live in the old rectory, which is slightly smaller than the house with the guest room but just as grand. And no one is more English than my parents, who stand waiting for me at the door. I’m sure they spotted me long before I reached the long driveway leading to their home. Yes, their house is just like that.
My mom is shorter, her hair mostly white and completely covering her ears. Time has taken its toll on her face, and from experience, I know she doesn’t fear wrinkles. She’s one of those women you don’t see much of these days. The kind who take great pride in their husband’s achievements and their only child but prefer to applaud quietly and without fuss. And she certainly isn’t the type who would be mistaken for her daughter-in-law's mother.
Martha playfully punches her on the arm, and they turn to each other, laughing. Then they take each other’s hands and leave me alone in my new home. I hear the soft music and their murmurs as they walk up the stairs and then down the hallway. Their whispers are quiet, like the rustle of two sheets of paper sliding against each other. I think they’re a bit uncomfortable with a stranger in their home. I know I personally couldn’t do that. How could they sit comfortably knowing a stranger is within the four walls of their house?
Then she stands next to her husband. Seeing them together, it strikes me that they don’t seem to match at all. Even with all the Botox and makeup in the world, it’s impossible to hide the fact that Martha is older than her husband. Jack's tattoos, long hair, and tied-up ponytail can never align with Martha’s grace and poise. Immediately, I feel guilty for having such trivial thoughts.
