What do you think?
The Night Stairs
When schoolgirls start fainting one after the other at an elite convent boarding school, old legends twist into new scandals. From irresistible bestselling storyteller Erin Kelly comes the new compulsive thriller that will leave you craving to read more.
Centuries of tradition are coming to an end at St Cordula's school. Deputy Head, Fiona Fox, is about to preside over a controversial move to save it from ruin. But it’s not easy to change things at a school this old.
Legend has it that the ghost of fifteenth-century nun, Sister Matilda, will keep St Cordula’s safe. But only as long as the words ‘GOD FORGIVE ME’, scrawled by Matilda on a chapel staircase wall before she fell to her death, are repainted every year. The words have only been allowed to fade once, in 2002. Then, fits of vertigo – ‘the spins’ – spread through the pupils, and a second girl fell to her death on the night stairs. But only three people know the truth of what happened the night of the tragedy.
Now the spins are back, and Fiona must stem the outbreak before it threatens St Cordula’s future, or worse, another girl loses her life. But when one of her pupils begins a dangerous investigation into the past, old secrets start to twist into new scandals…
Centuries of tradition are coming to an end at St Cordula's school. Deputy Head, Fiona Fox, is about to preside over a controversial move to save it from ruin. But it’s not easy to change things at a school this old.
Legend has it that the ghost of fifteenth-century nun, Sister Matilda, will keep St Cordula’s safe. But only as long as the words ‘GOD FORGIVE ME’, scrawled by Matilda on a chapel staircase wall before she fell to her death, are repainted every year. The words have only been allowed to fade once, in 2002. Then, fits of vertigo – ‘the spins’ – spread through the pupils, and a second girl fell to her death on the night stairs. But only three people know the truth of what happened the night of the tragedy.
Now the spins are back, and Fiona must stem the outbreak before it threatens St Cordula’s future, or worse, another girl loses her life. But when one of her pupils begins a dangerous investigation into the past, old secrets start to twist into new scandals…
432 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 9, 2026
About the author
Erin Kelly
61 books1,647 followersErin Kelly was born in London in 1976 and grew up in Essex. She read English at Warwick University and has been working as a journalist since 1998.
She has written for newspapers including the The Sunday Times, The Sunday Telegraph, the Daily Mail and the Express and magazines including Red, Psychologies, Marie Claire, Elle and Cosmopolitan.
She has written for newspapers including the The Sunday Times, The Sunday Telegraph, the Daily Mail and the Express and magazines including Red, Psychologies, Marie Claire, Elle and Cosmopolitan.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 162 reviews
May 15, 2026
I’ve read all of Erin Kelly’s novels (yes, even the Broadchurch novelisation) and I can’t believe this is the 11th! It doesn’t seem two minutes since I was reading
The Poison Tree
for the first time, but that was way back in 2011. Time flies.
Anyway, I have solid faith in Kelly’s ability to transport me and I enjoy the variety of settings in her novels. They’re reliably compelling and twisty but each one has a distinct identity. This time we’re in a Catholic girls’ boarding school, St Cordula’s, with narratives split mainly between the 90s/early 2000s and the present day, both periods marked by outbreaks of a mass hysteria phenomenon known as ‘the spins’. The atmosphere is great, and the religious aspect is woven in especially well.
I guessed a couple of the major reveals fairly early on, but honestly it didn’t matter much because the real pleasure here is in watching Kelly manage the sheer number of moving parts with such confidence. There are loads of characters, shifting allegiances, school politics, and lots of cutting back and forth between timeline threads, and she keeps all of it clear and emotionally legible. When a writer has you genuinely invested in whether a merger between two schools will go ahead, and turning the pages to find out whether it happens, you know they must be doing something right.
As with so many mysteries, the denouement can’t possibly be as satisfying as all that comes before it (and relies on the kind of quick-moving and action-focused dramatic scene I always find quite difficult to picture). But overall this was very very enjoyable. In fact, I’d happily read a sequel just to spend more time at St Cordula’s and see someone get their comeuppance.
I received an advance review copy of The Night Stairs from the publisher through NetGalley.
Anyway, I have solid faith in Kelly’s ability to transport me and I enjoy the variety of settings in her novels. They’re reliably compelling and twisty but each one has a distinct identity. This time we’re in a Catholic girls’ boarding school, St Cordula’s, with narratives split mainly between the 90s/early 2000s and the present day, both periods marked by outbreaks of a mass hysteria phenomenon known as ‘the spins’. The atmosphere is great, and the religious aspect is woven in especially well.
I guessed a couple of the major reveals fairly early on, but honestly it didn’t matter much because the real pleasure here is in watching Kelly manage the sheer number of moving parts with such confidence. There are loads of characters, shifting allegiances, school politics, and lots of cutting back and forth between timeline threads, and she keeps all of it clear and emotionally legible. When a writer has you genuinely invested in whether a merger between two schools will go ahead, and turning the pages to find out whether it happens, you know they must be doing something right.
As with so many mysteries, the denouement can’t possibly be as satisfying as all that comes before it (and relies on the kind of quick-moving and action-focused dramatic scene I always find quite difficult to picture). But overall this was very very enjoyable. In fact, I’d happily read a sequel just to spend more time at St Cordula’s and see someone get their comeuppance.
I received an advance review copy of The Night Stairs from the publisher through NetGalley.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
This review could either comprise just three words, or a whole three pages. The three words for ‘The Night Stairs’ by Erin Kelly are DEAD LESBIAN SYNDROME and I’m so incensed that I’m going to go ahead and write the three pages, should you wish to read on.
I’m often made to feel ‘different’, being a lesbian. I’m familiar with prejudice, so my radar for ‘difference’ being treated badly in literature is sensitive. And in her latest novel, Erin Kelly draws her main lesbian character as ‘different’, as divergent; ultimately as deviant.
I’ve had to write the following so many times in reviews, and it’s tiresome, to put it mildly. I also want to point out that it shouldn’t be the place of queer or queer-allied readers to have to educate authors and publishers on the most basic, LGBT-101 of how-not-to-endorse-homophobia-in-your-writing, if we take homophobia in the sense of treating what’s queer badly. Just like it shouldn’t be the place of Black readers to persuade authors not to propagate the Magical Negro Trope, I – as a lesbian – should not have to point out to authors how not to encourage the proliferation of Dead Lesbian Syndrome. (DLS is used widely as shorthand for all villainising of queer female characters.)
I don’t think Erin Kelly has discussed her sexuality anywhere, and perhaps nor should she, but ‘The Night Stairs’ makes me want to scream (as I have screamed before many times): STRAIGHT AUTHORS! Stop writing lesbian characters with a problematic relationship with their father! Stop writing just two lesbian characters only to prevent them from being together! Stop writing lesbian characters who are denied the right to be mothers! Stop writing lesbian characters who are the villain or murderer! And pleeease, pleeease, stop killing your lesbian characters! The dreadful thing is that Kelly has written all these things into ‘The Night Stairs’ (what I have to say in response to ‘The Night Stairs’ relates to events towards the close of the novel, and so contains spoilers). Has the industry really no idea of how damaging the perpetuation of these motifs is? I’d rather read no queer female characters at all in a novel than read queer women who all succumb to Dead Lesbian Syndrome. I can’t believe, in 2026, that I have to write that. It’s shameful!
Because, let’s be clear: every thing the author writes is a choice that they’ve made. As readers, it’s worth considering whether we bear an obligation to interrogate the making of these choices, and to consider the consequences of them. In my view, it feels imperative that publishers, librarians, reviewers, and readers should question the virtue of representing female homosexuality when ultimately, literary representations of queer women end up written as miserable, imprisoned, and most often dead. What might be an arbitrary choice on the part of an author, results in treatment that in this day and age is, frankly, disgraceful. I’ll not mince my words because the ending of ‘The Night Stairs’ upset me very much.
Perhaps Kelly is giving herself a pat on the back for broaching discussion of same-sex attraction between female characters at all. However, by the very fact that this is a thriller novel, we know that some character or other is going to be doomed. By dooming the lesbian character, the author eliminates the possibility for fruitful commentary upon the visibility of queer females and erases/overwrites our experience in favour of heteronormativity. Because the barriers erected in the way of queer attraction are reduced to a plot device simply to enable the central crime to take place, Kelly shuns the opportunity to make any statement about how marginalised and silenced lesbians are. The author has not mistreated her lesbian character; she has made the character whom she mistreats a lesbian. Kelly here, uses queer female diversity in a reductive and tokenistic way to inspire pity for the homophobic victim, and that disgusts me.
I, personally, feel I have to angle the spotlight at the author for the textual decisions she has made. Erin Kelly should shoulder responsibility for the way that she has presented lesbian characters, because the sad truth is that there do exist predictable interpretations amongst a lazy heteronormative readership, and Kelly has created a piece of work that opens up a space for homophobia if readers wish to partake of it, by inciting in her narrative hate for a lesbian character. How short a leap for those readers, totally vindicated by what they read, to apply this stereotype in real life.
I’m enraged by the author’s conflation of the lesbian character with the archetype of the villain. There is a unique and vital opportunity here to investigate girls’ experiences of same-sex attraction in a gender-exclusive, oppressively religious school environment. In fact, in the absence of this investigation, I find it illogical that Kelly chose to assign this sexuality to a character in her plot without any discussion of the psychological impact of Jessica’s prolonged and repeated homophobic treatment upon Becks’s actions, instinctive as they are in that single urge at the moment of crisis in the novel – the crux of the plot.
Kelly opens up a charged space to discuss the acute motivations of a young lesbian girl faced with rejection. Yet instead of participating in this discourse, Kelly has homophobic Jessica elevated by the plot, and lesbian Becks demonised. Becks’s sexuality functions to throw into relief Jessica’s sacrosanct heteronormativity. Because the author never reveals Becks’s motivation for the part she plays in the accidental death of Jessica to the other characters, Jessica’s homophobia is never called into account, and Erin Kelly is absolved of having to explore the consequences of it.
Furthermore, I’m sorry to say that this novel appears to bolster the opinion that women in same-sex relationships are somehow the antipathy of femininity, a corruption of what it is to be female, and are therefore unmotherly, since Becks is ultimately forbidden to fulfil her role as mother. Becks is demonised in no place more shamefully on the part of the author than when her pleas of motherhood are deemed insufficient cause to grant her mercy. In the climactic moment, Fiona, holding Becks’s life in her hands, outright dismisses any sympathetic feeling towards a fate where Becks is separated from her son.
Is one of my takeaway messages from this novel: STRAIGHT = GOOD; LESBIAN = BAD then? Yes! It takes very little effort to read it as such. If an author has even remotely left that open as a possible interpretation, then their work is problematic. For this reason, I have to round down to one star as the minimum rating, and I hope I’ve done a reasonable job of explaining why.
I’m aware that a precious few ‘mainstream’ books will genuinely reflect me and my life experiences, so I like to stack the books I consume heavy on the LGBT-friendly, Sapphic-centred and queer-authored/female-authored side. And my justification? here you go! ‘The Night Stairs’ serves to attest that even these days, authors and publishers remain ignorant that, or dismissive that, they are compounding the worn-out ‘Dead Lesbian Syndrome’ narrative. The plot resolution of ‘The Night Stairs’ certainly suggests that Sapphics don’t deserve happy endings (I include Becks’s wife in all of this). Go ahead: name three successful and well-publicised novels published in the last year (outside of YA books and the Sapphic Romance genre) that feature a central lesbian relationship that gets a happy ending.
I’ve said this before, but in my perfect world as a librarian and a reader, I wouldn’t have to interrogate every book where my sexuality is reflected to see whether it’s fairly or realistically done like this, and I wouldn’t have to question the motives and virtues of authors and publishers like this. I’d be really interested to hear what other lesbian readers think of this novel.
My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House UK, Vintage for the eARC.
I’m often made to feel ‘different’, being a lesbian. I’m familiar with prejudice, so my radar for ‘difference’ being treated badly in literature is sensitive. And in her latest novel, Erin Kelly draws her main lesbian character as ‘different’, as divergent; ultimately as deviant.
I’ve had to write the following so many times in reviews, and it’s tiresome, to put it mildly. I also want to point out that it shouldn’t be the place of queer or queer-allied readers to have to educate authors and publishers on the most basic, LGBT-101 of how-not-to-endorse-homophobia-in-your-writing, if we take homophobia in the sense of treating what’s queer badly. Just like it shouldn’t be the place of Black readers to persuade authors not to propagate the Magical Negro Trope, I – as a lesbian – should not have to point out to authors how not to encourage the proliferation of Dead Lesbian Syndrome. (DLS is used widely as shorthand for all villainising of queer female characters.)
I don’t think Erin Kelly has discussed her sexuality anywhere, and perhaps nor should she, but ‘The Night Stairs’ makes me want to scream (as I have screamed before many times): STRAIGHT AUTHORS! Stop writing lesbian characters with a problematic relationship with their father! Stop writing just two lesbian characters only to prevent them from being together! Stop writing lesbian characters who are denied the right to be mothers! Stop writing lesbian characters who are the villain or murderer! And pleeease, pleeease, stop killing your lesbian characters! The dreadful thing is that Kelly has written all these things into ‘The Night Stairs’ (what I have to say in response to ‘The Night Stairs’ relates to events towards the close of the novel, and so contains spoilers). Has the industry really no idea of how damaging the perpetuation of these motifs is? I’d rather read no queer female characters at all in a novel than read queer women who all succumb to Dead Lesbian Syndrome. I can’t believe, in 2026, that I have to write that. It’s shameful!
Because, let’s be clear: every thing the author writes is a choice that they’ve made. As readers, it’s worth considering whether we bear an obligation to interrogate the making of these choices, and to consider the consequences of them. In my view, it feels imperative that publishers, librarians, reviewers, and readers should question the virtue of representing female homosexuality when ultimately, literary representations of queer women end up written as miserable, imprisoned, and most often dead. What might be an arbitrary choice on the part of an author, results in treatment that in this day and age is, frankly, disgraceful. I’ll not mince my words because the ending of ‘The Night Stairs’ upset me very much.
Perhaps Kelly is giving herself a pat on the back for broaching discussion of same-sex attraction between female characters at all. However, by the very fact that this is a thriller novel, we know that some character or other is going to be doomed. By dooming the lesbian character, the author eliminates the possibility for fruitful commentary upon the visibility of queer females and erases/overwrites our experience in favour of heteronormativity. Because the barriers erected in the way of queer attraction are reduced to a plot device simply to enable the central crime to take place, Kelly shuns the opportunity to make any statement about how marginalised and silenced lesbians are. The author has not mistreated her lesbian character; she has made the character whom she mistreats a lesbian. Kelly here, uses queer female diversity in a reductive and tokenistic way to inspire pity for the homophobic victim, and that disgusts me.
I, personally, feel I have to angle the spotlight at the author for the textual decisions she has made. Erin Kelly should shoulder responsibility for the way that she has presented lesbian characters, because the sad truth is that there do exist predictable interpretations amongst a lazy heteronormative readership, and Kelly has created a piece of work that opens up a space for homophobia if readers wish to partake of it, by inciting in her narrative hate for a lesbian character. How short a leap for those readers, totally vindicated by what they read, to apply this stereotype in real life.
I’m enraged by the author’s conflation of the lesbian character with the archetype of the villain. There is a unique and vital opportunity here to investigate girls’ experiences of same-sex attraction in a gender-exclusive, oppressively religious school environment. In fact, in the absence of this investigation, I find it illogical that Kelly chose to assign this sexuality to a character in her plot without any discussion of the psychological impact of Jessica’s prolonged and repeated homophobic treatment upon Becks’s actions, instinctive as they are in that single urge at the moment of crisis in the novel – the crux of the plot.
Kelly opens up a charged space to discuss the acute motivations of a young lesbian girl faced with rejection. Yet instead of participating in this discourse, Kelly has homophobic Jessica elevated by the plot, and lesbian Becks demonised. Becks’s sexuality functions to throw into relief Jessica’s sacrosanct heteronormativity. Because the author never reveals Becks’s motivation for the part she plays in the accidental death of Jessica to the other characters, Jessica’s homophobia is never called into account, and Erin Kelly is absolved of having to explore the consequences of it.
Furthermore, I’m sorry to say that this novel appears to bolster the opinion that women in same-sex relationships are somehow the antipathy of femininity, a corruption of what it is to be female, and are therefore unmotherly, since Becks is ultimately forbidden to fulfil her role as mother. Becks is demonised in no place more shamefully on the part of the author than when her pleas of motherhood are deemed insufficient cause to grant her mercy. In the climactic moment, Fiona, holding Becks’s life in her hands, outright dismisses any sympathetic feeling towards a fate where Becks is separated from her son.
Is one of my takeaway messages from this novel: STRAIGHT = GOOD; LESBIAN = BAD then? Yes! It takes very little effort to read it as such. If an author has even remotely left that open as a possible interpretation, then their work is problematic. For this reason, I have to round down to one star as the minimum rating, and I hope I’ve done a reasonable job of explaining why.
I’m aware that a precious few ‘mainstream’ books will genuinely reflect me and my life experiences, so I like to stack the books I consume heavy on the LGBT-friendly, Sapphic-centred and queer-authored/female-authored side. And my justification? here you go! ‘The Night Stairs’ serves to attest that even these days, authors and publishers remain ignorant that, or dismissive that, they are compounding the worn-out ‘Dead Lesbian Syndrome’ narrative. The plot resolution of ‘The Night Stairs’ certainly suggests that Sapphics don’t deserve happy endings (I include Becks’s wife in all of this). Go ahead: name three successful and well-publicised novels published in the last year (outside of YA books and the Sapphic Romance genre) that feature a central lesbian relationship that gets a happy ending.
I’ve said this before, but in my perfect world as a librarian and a reader, I wouldn’t have to interrogate every book where my sexuality is reflected to see whether it’s fairly or realistically done like this, and I wouldn’t have to question the motives and virtues of authors and publishers like this. I’d be really interested to hear what other lesbian readers think of this novel.
My thanks go to NetGalley and Random House UK, Vintage for the eARC.
July 31, 2026
3.5 stars
St Cordula's is steeped in tradition. Some of it less savoury than others. Every year the girls must ensure that a message from a 15th century nun is repainted, thus ensuring the school and its inhabitants are safe for another year.
There have been only two instances where the words have been allowed to fade and both times have brought about a strange school-wide affliction called "the spins". When the spins occurred the first time it brought about the death of a pupil and now, as St Cordula's prepares itself for more changes, the spins are back.
Fiona Fox, deputy head, is well aware of what harm the spins can do as she was a schoolgirl when her friend died. This time around she is determined that tragedy will not strike again.
But Fiona is hiding far more than the plans for the future of the school. Will she be able to save St Cordula's this time round and keep all the girls safe?
The Night Stairs is an engaging story that is split into two timelines and is quite an engaging story. I did get a bit confused with which pupils belonged to which timeline but the revelation of Fiona's secret was surprising.
Although I enjoyed the book it did feel like it was written for a younger audience and I thought it would fit more for young adults or tweens. There is certainly little offensive material in it although there is confusion around the death of the first nun and some violence.
Thankyou to Netgalley and Random House for the digital review copy.
St Cordula's is steeped in tradition. Some of it less savoury than others. Every year the girls must ensure that a message from a 15th century nun is repainted, thus ensuring the school and its inhabitants are safe for another year.
There have been only two instances where the words have been allowed to fade and both times have brought about a strange school-wide affliction called "the spins". When the spins occurred the first time it brought about the death of a pupil and now, as St Cordula's prepares itself for more changes, the spins are back.
Fiona Fox, deputy head, is well aware of what harm the spins can do as she was a schoolgirl when her friend died. This time around she is determined that tragedy will not strike again.
But Fiona is hiding far more than the plans for the future of the school. Will she be able to save St Cordula's this time round and keep all the girls safe?
The Night Stairs is an engaging story that is split into two timelines and is quite an engaging story. I did get a bit confused with which pupils belonged to which timeline but the revelation of Fiona's secret was surprising.
Although I enjoyed the book it did feel like it was written for a younger audience and I thought it would fit more for young adults or tweens. There is certainly little offensive material in it although there is confusion around the death of the first nun and some violence.
Thankyou to Netgalley and Random House for the digital review copy.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
A predictably solid entry into the dark academia canon by Erin Kelly, this is a satisfying psychological thriller featuring all the classics: intense female friendships, dual timelines, Latin, centuries-old tradition under threat, swooshy cloaks, creaky old wood, etc etc. Good fun.
And in another:
This is a proper spoiler which gives away some major pieces of the plot, so really don't read it if you don't want to know! But this seriously soured my enjoyment of the book.
And in another:
This is a proper spoiler which gives away some major pieces of the plot, so really don't read it if you don't want to know! But this seriously soured my enjoyment of the book.
August 22, 2026
3.5 stars (review to follow)
August 22, 2026
This had loads of potential (mass psychogenic illness) but the book was genuinely boring.
I didn’t care about any of the main characters and there was a never ending introduction to random new ones who added nothing to the story. I couldn’t wait to get to the end because it was so dull, and when I got there, I didn’t care one bit how it ended.
I didn’t care about any of the main characters and there was a never ending introduction to random new ones who added nothing to the story. I couldn’t wait to get to the end because it was so dull, and when I got there, I didn’t care one bit how it ended.
August 23, 2026
I loved the atmosphere here, however, the dual timelines was a bit "much" in this particular novel. I had trouble keeping the characters from one timeline to the next in mind (particularly as some are in both), and large portions seemed so slow at times it took me a while to want to pick the book back up again.
July 6, 2026
Whilst I overall enjoyed this story I did find it heavy going and slow at times. I like a story where you get two or more timelines drip feeding you the information.
I like the concept of young girls having apparent mass delusions and thought this story did this well.
I like the concept of young girls having apparent mass delusions and thought this story did this well.
Read
June 13, 2026Thank you, Random House UK, for providing me with an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
The Night Stairs was definitely out of my comfort zone - I do not read Mystery & thriller books, and sadly, it did not quite work for me.
I did like the setting - a private catholic school with a long history of mass hysteria and a dark history. It was interesting, and I liked the idea of a confined space where school girls are at risk of an unexplained mass hysteria phenomenon. It was intriguing at first, but I struggled with the book's structure and writing.
One of my biggest issues was the writing - I found the storytelling and book structure very confusing. The writing was disjointed, with many short chapters featuring different POVs and timelines. It was building up the mystery and overall plot structure, but I struggled with all the POVs switching. This book also has A LOT of characters, and it was confusing to follow them all; some of them appeared in different timelines.
I also had the impression that some scenes were missing - like the book was intentionally skipping some events to build up the mystery, but instead of intriguing me, it just confused me. The plot didn't grab my attention, and I didn't like that it seemed more focused on the school and on how to avoid it getting into a scandal than on the mass hysteria phenomenon. I also found some elements a bit, probably when it comes to the sexuality of some characters, and it kinda lost me (like wondering if a binary character being different and not identifying as a girl is what stops them from joining the mass hysteria).
Overall, it did not work for me. I can see this book working for people who love the Mystery and Thriller genre, and the story did have a lot of potential with so many elements being intertwined to keep us hooked.
The Night Stairs was definitely out of my comfort zone - I do not read Mystery & thriller books, and sadly, it did not quite work for me.
I did like the setting - a private catholic school with a long history of mass hysteria and a dark history. It was interesting, and I liked the idea of a confined space where school girls are at risk of an unexplained mass hysteria phenomenon. It was intriguing at first, but I struggled with the book's structure and writing.
One of my biggest issues was the writing - I found the storytelling and book structure very confusing. The writing was disjointed, with many short chapters featuring different POVs and timelines. It was building up the mystery and overall plot structure, but I struggled with all the POVs switching. This book also has A LOT of characters, and it was confusing to follow them all; some of them appeared in different timelines.
I also had the impression that some scenes were missing - like the book was intentionally skipping some events to build up the mystery, but instead of intriguing me, it just confused me. The plot didn't grab my attention, and I didn't like that it seemed more focused on the school and on how to avoid it getting into a scandal than on the mass hysteria phenomenon. I also found some elements a bit, probably when it comes to the sexuality of some characters, and it kinda lost me (like wondering if a binary character being different and not identifying as a girl is what stops them from joining the mass hysteria).
Overall, it did not work for me. I can see this book working for people who love the Mystery and Thriller genre, and the story did have a lot of potential with so many elements being intertwined to keep us hooked.
Read
July 14, 2026Sometimes it's really hard to review a book that's rock-solid in its competence, because what do you say? There are few flaws or cracks to hook into: no faltering characterisation or hollow-ringing prosody. Erin Kelly is that kind of writer. This is only the second of her books I've read, and it's set in a location that often encourages authors to get febrile, which is to say, a girls' boarding school (and a Catholic one at that, even better). Kelly smartly keeps things on a tighter rein, rarely getting overly lyrical. This is a good idea because she has a lot to juggle: multiple time frames, with the school's 2025 troubles echoing similar events that occurred twenty years earlier; a long list of characters, some of whom have secret identities (which the reader always knows, but many of the other characters don't); and a variety of registers, from a teacher's brusque affection for her charges to the complicated changes in a friendship between outcasts. All of these ring true, and effortlessly elicit the reader's investment. I always appreciate when writers take religious faith seriously - by which I mean, when they understand that for some people it's real and meaningful, and can reasonably be expected to affect values and behaviours - and Kelly very much achieves that here too, with a range of portrayals of the Catholic faith, including one of someone who desperately wants to believe but has thus far been unable to. My only complaint might be that the solution to the mystery and the climax of the plot alike rely on two different thriller tropes which have been overused, and although Kelly deploys them skilfully, the sense of familiarity is still disappointing in a book that otherwise knows exactly what it's doing, and how to deliver. Thanks to NetGalley for the eARC for review! The Night Stairs was published on 9 July 2026.
July 8, 2026
St. Cordula’s is a chilling blend of gothic mystery, psychological suspense, and supernatural folklore set within the haunting confines of a centuries-old Catholic boarding school.
As Deputy Head Fiona Fox struggles to save the struggling institution through controversial change, she finds herself confronting a terrifying legend that refuses to stay buried.
The annual ritual of repainting the words “GOD FORGIVE ME,” left by the doomed fifteenth-century nun Sister Matilda before her fatal fall, creates an eerie sense of dread from the very beginning. When the ritual is broken and the students once again begin suffering mysterious attacks of vertigo, the novel builds suspense with mounting tension and a pervasive atmosphere of unease.
What makes the book compelling is the way it balances its supernatural elements with human secrets. The return of the vertigo forces long-buried truths back into the light, and the revelation that only three people know what really happened during the 2002 tragedy adds an irresistible layer of intrigue. Fiona is a sympathetic and determined protagonist whose race against time gives the story emotional weight alongside its chilling mystery.
Rich in atmosphere, filled with dark secrets, and driven by an engaging mystery, St. Cordula’s is an absorbing read for fans of gothic fiction and supernatural thrillers. It delivers plenty of suspense while exploring themes of guilt, tradition, faith, and the devastating consequences of the past refusing to stay buried.
As Deputy Head Fiona Fox struggles to save the struggling institution through controversial change, she finds herself confronting a terrifying legend that refuses to stay buried.
The annual ritual of repainting the words “GOD FORGIVE ME,” left by the doomed fifteenth-century nun Sister Matilda before her fatal fall, creates an eerie sense of dread from the very beginning. When the ritual is broken and the students once again begin suffering mysterious attacks of vertigo, the novel builds suspense with mounting tension and a pervasive atmosphere of unease.
What makes the book compelling is the way it balances its supernatural elements with human secrets. The return of the vertigo forces long-buried truths back into the light, and the revelation that only three people know what really happened during the 2002 tragedy adds an irresistible layer of intrigue. Fiona is a sympathetic and determined protagonist whose race against time gives the story emotional weight alongside its chilling mystery.
Rich in atmosphere, filled with dark secrets, and driven by an engaging mystery, St. Cordula’s is an absorbing read for fans of gothic fiction and supernatural thrillers. It delivers plenty of suspense while exploring themes of guilt, tradition, faith, and the devastating consequences of the past refusing to stay buried.
February 7, 2026
4.75
A woohoohoooooo this rocked. I loved the way it both explored and moved on the stories of mass psychogenic illness; the depth and resonance of tradition and class and faith and all the ways they envelop each other; the gasping joy and desperation of teen girl friendship.
It had all the classic Erin Kelly twists and turns that reveal themselves slowly. They mostly got me and the ones that I guessed didn’t spoil the surprise. I think that there could have been a bit better pacing with the motivations of one of the girls earlier on but it’s only a small quibble.
Weirdly the third book in six months I’ve read about girls boarding schools and mysterious stair based death (spoiled milk)/ boarding schools and MPI (havoc). All great in different ways. This I do think was the most self assured and riotous to read. Erin Kelly the woman you are!
Erin Kelly you are so good
A woohoohoooooo this rocked. I loved the way it both explored and moved on the stories of mass psychogenic illness; the depth and resonance of tradition and class and faith and all the ways they envelop each other; the gasping joy and desperation of teen girl friendship.
It had all the classic Erin Kelly twists and turns that reveal themselves slowly. They mostly got me and the ones that I guessed didn’t spoil the surprise. I think that there could have been a bit better pacing with the motivations of one of the girls earlier on but it’s only a small quibble.
Weirdly the third book in six months I’ve read about girls boarding schools and mysterious stair based death (spoiled milk)/ boarding schools and MPI (havoc). All great in different ways. This I do think was the most self assured and riotous to read. Erin Kelly the woman you are!
Erin Kelly you are so good
July 16, 2026
This is a fabulously addictive gothic-style mystery book set in St. Cordula's, a boarding school.
The school has stood for centuries; there are mysteries, secrets and also another interesting phenomenon, "the spins"! Generations of families have sent their girls to the school, but in this modern age, things need to change, and there is a change on the horizon.
The author brings the school to life and creates it as a character in itself; as such, the bricks hold the secrets, and the rumours are continued by the girls who attend. Some of the teachers were students themselves, so they are also aware of things that have happened.
The setting is great for the gothic feel for this mystery story, and there is murder, who, when, why and all the other reasons are gradually explained along with the other mysteries that surround the school. There is a certain sense of dread throughout and of things that send shivers up your spine.
This is a fabulous book full of mystery, suspense and several twists. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I would definitely recommend it.
The school has stood for centuries; there are mysteries, secrets and also another interesting phenomenon, "the spins"! Generations of families have sent their girls to the school, but in this modern age, things need to change, and there is a change on the horizon.
The author brings the school to life and creates it as a character in itself; as such, the bricks hold the secrets, and the rumours are continued by the girls who attend. Some of the teachers were students themselves, so they are also aware of things that have happened.
The setting is great for the gothic feel for this mystery story, and there is murder, who, when, why and all the other reasons are gradually explained along with the other mysteries that surround the school. There is a certain sense of dread throughout and of things that send shivers up your spine.
This is a fabulous book full of mystery, suspense and several twists. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I would definitely recommend it.
August 8, 2026
I wasn’t too sure about this to begin with. I didn’t feel that need to pick the book up after putting it down. However, once I got around halfway through it did pick up and I really enjoyed it and wanted more. The ending was brilliant and I loved the plot twist we were given towards the end. I would like a follow up to tell us more about Amelie but unsure if that is going to happen!
Read
July 10, 2026not a stellar entry into what is accidentally becoming my big year of boarding school books, but that's okay ! fr me, its sins were venial and will, along w most likely the bulk of the book, be easily & swiftly forgotten.
March 21, 2026
so fucking incredible. rtc.
Read
July 16, 2026Erin Kelly always delivers a compelling, satisfying read. I very much enjoyed the boarding school setting.
July 22, 2026
Really enjoyed this, was fun and spooky.
Read
September 6, 2026vibes were great, plot less so, prob my least fave by erin kelly i've read so far
September 12, 2026
2.5⭐
So, so slow and, unfortunately, quite dull.
So, so slow and, unfortunately, quite dull.
August 5, 2026
An excellent read by the ever-reliable Erin Kelly. Not quite five stars as it felt over-long in places and was compelling enough without the need for all the twists and turns of the closing chapters, but still thoroughly entertaining.
August 12, 2026
As a girl with chronic vertigo, this book gave me the spins. Am I susceptible to MPI or is it just Kelly's writing weaving itself deep inside me and sending me off kilter?
Wow.
This is my seventh Erin Kelly novel after having read He Said/She said when it was first published in hardback. I have read each new novel since, and am steadily making my way back through her catalogue.
I'm not one to become sentimental of an author. I'm shit with names and titles, hence the crappy, incomprehensive log I have of the hundreds and hundreds of books I've read. The only main stay for me has been Kelly. He Said/She Said was my first foray into adult fiction at the ripe age of 19 and I put that book down after a crazed readathon only to declare myself converted and that Erin Kelly was my favourite writer. I don't know how I knew that after just one book, but, ten years later, and another knock out novel, I maintain my enthusiasm.
I went into The Night Stairs with caution, a first for me and Kelly. This was to be her first novel under a new publishing house and thus a first under a new editing team. And I often find what makes or breaks a novel for me, is the relationship between editor and writer. So, I was nervous. But I had no reason to be.
Whether Kelly lucked out with another exceptional editing team or whether she is just that fucking good, The Night Stairs is everything an Erin Kelly novel can and should be.
The prose: of course, the writing is brilliant, Kelly knows how to craft her words, but she is on another level here. Kelly, unlike some of her peers in the psychological thriller space, shows incredible restraint when writing. She, like many others, writes from multiple POVs. Each character has a distinct voice, but it's never overdone or cliche. Her inserts of Latin and religious liturgy never feel forced or as if she were peacocking her knowledge to the audience. She is able to craft several narratives from the perspectives of young girls, and not only that, is able to confidently and convincingly carry those narratives from age 11 through 18. She also just knows how to make her writing beautiful. You know, just to rub it all in.
The characters: once again, Kelly has a blast writing uptight, rich people. Some may even say it were her niche. But here we have the added element of religion, or rather, performative, rich people religion. And better even still, rich teen religion. Which is, all that to say, not very religious at all. It is thrilling reading through the eyes of and about these walking contradictions that is these girls. Whether they're not really rich, not really religious or just bad bad girls in general. This book revels in this deviant behaviour.
These girls are mean, nasty and terrible friends and classmates, and when you finally get around to the central 'spins' of it all, you can't help but feel a little satisfied as the dominos start to, quite literally, fall. But at the same time, Kelly's writing is so layered, you can't help but love these girls, wish the best for them, and pray that, even though something awful will definitely happen, it never actually does.
In contrast to this you also have the perspective and views of the teachers and religious practitioners of the school. Their approach to religion is much more solemn and sincere. While like the girls, they seem to struggle with their faith, it feels far more of an urgent crisis for these women. This belief, or lack there of, seems to inform so much of their character in a way it never really does for most of the school children.
But despite the difference of ages, Kelly writes all her characters with sincerity and complexity. The adults are as prone to keeping secrets as the children, the children are as multifaceted as their adult supervisors. These are all real people. Some you may have met before, some you may meet in your future, and some you wish never to meet at all.
Structure: Kelly is a master of narratives. And here she is at her best. Every time Kelly moves narratives it is with purpose. We bookend the narrative with a POV that we do not see elsewhere in the novel. And it is this example that best exemplifies Kelly's skill. What would seem like a random choice and unnecessarily bloat in other stories, perfectly pins the narrative between two distinct moments not just through time, but through our understanding. What Kelly is trying to say with this novel is perfectly encapsulated within that opening and ending POV.
Outside of this, Kelly writes through 5 other POVs, 3 teens and 2 adults. But she also writes these through dual timelines. One that takes place over several years in the late 90s and early 2000s, and one that takes place over a few days in the present day. Kelly is once again no novice at writing dual timelines, sometimes even writing 3 or more. But here the narratives flow through and around each other gracefully. You are given details about the past, just as you needed them in the present but, Kelly also uses this to confuse her reader and place doubt in them. And, perhaps due to her practice at writing complex timelines, manages to subvert the reader and what they may expect from such a structure.
Setting and story: I am a big fan of Kelly's proclivity to write within big sets and themes. I loved all the ballet stuff in Watch Her Fall, the old building in Stone Mother's and what it was like through the three timelines, and I love everything to do with the treasure hunt in Skeleton Key. Here, Kelly explores an all girl, catholic boarding school. And while reading it, I was often reminded, in the best way, of all those different set pieces and themes from her previous books. But this school, St Cordula's (consistently read in my dyslexic mind as Cordelia's) is something entirely different too. Something ancient and powerful, brimming with history so well written you could very easily convince me that St Cordula's is a real place.
The uniforms, with their billowing capes, are that highly stylised idea I look forward to from Kelly. And the concept of the spins is so completely different from everything Kelly writes, and everything I've read up until now from a psychological thriller. ( Though I am on the look out for similar works now!) The psychology behind the spins, the mystery of what they may have led to in the past and what could have possibly caused them to reappear in the present are twisty but not unrealistic or nonsensical, as it may be in the hands of a less skilled writer.
The story has you drawn in from the start. Due in parts to the exquisite setting and atmosphere and the mystery set up around the history of St Cordula's. I took a writing class from Kelly about half a decade ago, and I remember, when speaking of beginning a psychological thriller novel,she told us that the most important thing you need to do is set up as many interesting questions as you can. But to remember that you always eventually have to answer them. Kelly definitely follows her own advice here. The first POV sets you up with countless questions and they only build from there but is Kelly successful at answering them before the final page?
The ending: yeah, she is. The ending is, as with everything else here, very well crafted. I often find that with novels of this sort, ones with complex narratives and competing timelines, ones that want to keep you on your toes as long as possible with twists and shocking reveals. That the author is not capable of landing an ending. Of course, there are no worries with Kelly. The ending is neither boring and long, or confusing and rushed. It is perfect. It managed to answer every question it had posed, reasonably and satisfyingly. And it navigated the line between actionable climax and comprehensible climax so that I managed to follow along while still feeling my heart beating and like I couldn't catch my breath.
Maybe it's me just being hopeful, but did that end feel almost like it was hinting at a sequel? Who knows, but I know I'd be back for another round of St Cordula's and her contagious spins.
Should you read this book? If you are a fan of psychological thrillers? Honestly, you couldn't do better than an Erin Kelly book. And this one is one of her best. But, be careful, you may not be able to go back to slockly, twist for twist sake knock offs again. Like I said, Kelly is the real thing and her writing will spoil you, but luckily she has quite the catalogue for you to fall into iif you do catch the sickness and go spinning over the deep end.
Wow.
This is my seventh Erin Kelly novel after having read He Said/She said when it was first published in hardback. I have read each new novel since, and am steadily making my way back through her catalogue.
I'm not one to become sentimental of an author. I'm shit with names and titles, hence the crappy, incomprehensive log I have of the hundreds and hundreds of books I've read. The only main stay for me has been Kelly. He Said/She Said was my first foray into adult fiction at the ripe age of 19 and I put that book down after a crazed readathon only to declare myself converted and that Erin Kelly was my favourite writer. I don't know how I knew that after just one book, but, ten years later, and another knock out novel, I maintain my enthusiasm.
I went into The Night Stairs with caution, a first for me and Kelly. This was to be her first novel under a new publishing house and thus a first under a new editing team. And I often find what makes or breaks a novel for me, is the relationship between editor and writer. So, I was nervous. But I had no reason to be.
Whether Kelly lucked out with another exceptional editing team or whether she is just that fucking good, The Night Stairs is everything an Erin Kelly novel can and should be.
The prose: of course, the writing is brilliant, Kelly knows how to craft her words, but she is on another level here. Kelly, unlike some of her peers in the psychological thriller space, shows incredible restraint when writing. She, like many others, writes from multiple POVs. Each character has a distinct voice, but it's never overdone or cliche. Her inserts of Latin and religious liturgy never feel forced or as if she were peacocking her knowledge to the audience. She is able to craft several narratives from the perspectives of young girls, and not only that, is able to confidently and convincingly carry those narratives from age 11 through 18. She also just knows how to make her writing beautiful. You know, just to rub it all in.
The characters: once again, Kelly has a blast writing uptight, rich people. Some may even say it were her niche. But here we have the added element of religion, or rather, performative, rich people religion. And better even still, rich teen religion. Which is, all that to say, not very religious at all. It is thrilling reading through the eyes of and about these walking contradictions that is these girls. Whether they're not really rich, not really religious or just bad bad girls in general. This book revels in this deviant behaviour.
These girls are mean, nasty and terrible friends and classmates, and when you finally get around to the central 'spins' of it all, you can't help but feel a little satisfied as the dominos start to, quite literally, fall. But at the same time, Kelly's writing is so layered, you can't help but love these girls, wish the best for them, and pray that, even though something awful will definitely happen, it never actually does.
In contrast to this you also have the perspective and views of the teachers and religious practitioners of the school. Their approach to religion is much more solemn and sincere. While like the girls, they seem to struggle with their faith, it feels far more of an urgent crisis for these women. This belief, or lack there of, seems to inform so much of their character in a way it never really does for most of the school children.
But despite the difference of ages, Kelly writes all her characters with sincerity and complexity. The adults are as prone to keeping secrets as the children, the children are as multifaceted as their adult supervisors. These are all real people. Some you may have met before, some you may meet in your future, and some you wish never to meet at all.
Structure: Kelly is a master of narratives. And here she is at her best. Every time Kelly moves narratives it is with purpose. We bookend the narrative with a POV that we do not see elsewhere in the novel. And it is this example that best exemplifies Kelly's skill. What would seem like a random choice and unnecessarily bloat in other stories, perfectly pins the narrative between two distinct moments not just through time, but through our understanding. What Kelly is trying to say with this novel is perfectly encapsulated within that opening and ending POV.
Outside of this, Kelly writes through 5 other POVs, 3 teens and 2 adults. But she also writes these through dual timelines. One that takes place over several years in the late 90s and early 2000s, and one that takes place over a few days in the present day. Kelly is once again no novice at writing dual timelines, sometimes even writing 3 or more. But here the narratives flow through and around each other gracefully. You are given details about the past, just as you needed them in the present but, Kelly also uses this to confuse her reader and place doubt in them. And, perhaps due to her practice at writing complex timelines, manages to subvert the reader and what they may expect from such a structure.
Setting and story: I am a big fan of Kelly's proclivity to write within big sets and themes. I loved all the ballet stuff in Watch Her Fall, the old building in Stone Mother's and what it was like through the three timelines, and I love everything to do with the treasure hunt in Skeleton Key. Here, Kelly explores an all girl, catholic boarding school. And while reading it, I was often reminded, in the best way, of all those different set pieces and themes from her previous books. But this school, St Cordula's (consistently read in my dyslexic mind as Cordelia's) is something entirely different too. Something ancient and powerful, brimming with history so well written you could very easily convince me that St Cordula's is a real place.
The uniforms, with their billowing capes, are that highly stylised idea I look forward to from Kelly. And the concept of the spins is so completely different from everything Kelly writes, and everything I've read up until now from a psychological thriller. ( Though I am on the look out for similar works now!) The psychology behind the spins, the mystery of what they may have led to in the past and what could have possibly caused them to reappear in the present are twisty but not unrealistic or nonsensical, as it may be in the hands of a less skilled writer.
The story has you drawn in from the start. Due in parts to the exquisite setting and atmosphere and the mystery set up around the history of St Cordula's. I took a writing class from Kelly about half a decade ago, and I remember, when speaking of beginning a psychological thriller novel,she told us that the most important thing you need to do is set up as many interesting questions as you can. But to remember that you always eventually have to answer them. Kelly definitely follows her own advice here. The first POV sets you up with countless questions and they only build from there but is Kelly successful at answering them before the final page?
The ending: yeah, she is. The ending is, as with everything else here, very well crafted. I often find that with novels of this sort, ones with complex narratives and competing timelines, ones that want to keep you on your toes as long as possible with twists and shocking reveals. That the author is not capable of landing an ending. Of course, there are no worries with Kelly. The ending is neither boring and long, or confusing and rushed. It is perfect. It managed to answer every question it had posed, reasonably and satisfyingly. And it navigated the line between actionable climax and comprehensible climax so that I managed to follow along while still feeling my heart beating and like I couldn't catch my breath.
Maybe it's me just being hopeful, but did that end feel almost like it was hinting at a sequel? Who knows, but I know I'd be back for another round of St Cordula's and her contagious spins.
Should you read this book? If you are a fan of psychological thrillers? Honestly, you couldn't do better than an Erin Kelly book. And this one is one of her best. But, be careful, you may not be able to go back to slockly, twist for twist sake knock offs again. Like I said, Kelly is the real thing and her writing will spoil you, but luckily she has quite the catalogue for you to fall into iif you do catch the sickness and go spinning over the deep end.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 9, 2026
There is something about the boarding school novel that never quite loses its grip. Perhaps it's the promise of adventure without the parents. Danger, yes, but curfewed danger. Erin Kelly understands this tension completely, and in The Night Stairs she does something rather brilliant with it: she takes the classic boarding school novel and locks it in a room with a proper, creeping mystery, then sets the whole thing loose across two timelines and a school that has been doggedly keeping its own secrets since 1839.
Kelly sets the tone before the story even starts. The book opens with an epigraph from the priest in Fleabag, delivering his one-word instruction, "kneel." From that alone, you know exactly what you're in for. Kelly has a wonderfully dry comic touch. For a novel dealing in dead nuns and disappearing pupils, it is, genuinely, a dark delight.
St Cordula's Roman Catholic School for Girls occupies a Yorkshire valley shaped by six centuries of Catholic history. It is a place, Kelly tells us early on, that is "less a collection of buildings than one of standing stones excavated from the North Yorkshire Moors." Ravens nest in its ramparts. Its convent, its abbey, its founding saint who almost certainly never existed: all of it is history the girls are meant to absorb without question. Running through the middle of the building, connecting the headmistress's rooms to the old abbey, are the night stairs themselves: narrow, uneven, and the site of a boarding school ritual so persistent that even the staff won't walk near them after dark.
The Night Stairs is structured in four parts named for books of the Bible: Genesis, Acts, Exodus and Revelation. Within them, Kelly threads two timelines. One runs through the present day across a single tense week of weekdays. The other runs from 1997 to 2002, tracking a group of pupils as they arrive as eleven-year-olds and grow into the girls, and then the women, they become.
Each chapter is told from a particular character's point of view, and Kelly populates the novel with a fabulous ensemble. There is Jessica, the bookish scholarship girl with a passion for old things and nineteenth-century novels, and Becks, who is furious, funny, sharp-tongued, class-conscious, and quietly working through her own sexuality long before the people around her begin to understand it. Becks’ obsessive book mapping and the “Book of Books” she gradually builds with Jessica, hiding floor plans of Manderley, Thornfield Hall, and Salem beneath a mattress, are among the most tender depictions of a certain kind of private, all-consuming reader-love I’ve come across.
Kelly's secondary characters are just as memorable. Persey rebels against expectation with a Joan of Arc haircut and razor-sharp wit, while Marisol, in red lipstick, black clothes and what Kelly memorably describes as "hip-hop levels of religious bling", steals every scene she's in. Then there is Greer, the housemistress turned headmistress, forty-two and devout, mothering "dozens" of girls she'll never bear herself.
I cannot forget Fiona, the present-day deputy head, who was a pupil here once under a different name entirely, and who has spent years making sure nobody recognises her. This last thread is the engine of the whole novel. Fiona's reinvention (a broken nose reset to resemble someone else's, four stone gained, and hair gone silver early) isn't vanity. It's armour. Kelly lets us sit in the discomfort of not knowing why for a very long time, doling out fragments: a shredded school magazine, a locked door she cannot bring herself to walk through, a confession overheard in an empty chapel, until the pressure becomes almost unbearable.
The present-day plot kicks off properly when a wave of what the school calls "the spins", clinically known as mass psychogenic illness, sweeps through the pupils, exactly as it did once before, in the year the past timeline begins. At the heart of the legend is Sister Matilda, a novitiate said to have died on the night stairs centuries ago. The ritual attached to her, which involves saying her name three times in a mirror and climbing the stairs after lights out, has the particular, sticky power of a story that everyone claims not to believe and nobody can quite let go of. Kelly is very good on why. "Only God turns stories into stone," Fiona thinks, standing in the abbey, and it's as good a thesis statement for the whole novel as any.
What makes the "spins" so compelling is that Kelly refuses to treat them as either simple superstition or medical curiosity. Instead, they become a way of exploring the stories institutions tell, the secrets young women inherit, and the ways bodies sometimes articulate what words cannot. The novel keeps returning to the uneasy relationship between narrative and belief, whether that narrative is religious, historical or psychological.
What I loved most is how unsentimental Kelly is about faith, institutions and the stories communities tell to survive. Mother Imelda's decades of discipline and denial versus Greer's radical, sometimes overextended, compassion. The scandal-scarred boys' school St Cordula's is being forced to merge with. The class and race politics running beneath the surface of a "traditional intake". None of it is delivered as a lecture. It arrives sideways, in throwaway lines and overheard staffroom conversations, the way institutional rot actually reveals itself.
Kelly also has enormous fun with the literary bones of her own novel. Carrie, The Crucible, Never Let Me Go, Rebecca, the Brontës and even Jilly Cooper all appear naturally through what the girls are reading, rather than as decorative references. It's exactly the sort of bibliophile Easter egg that makes a novel like this such a pleasure.
Without spoiling the mechanics of the final act, and there is a properly nasty, brilliantly constructed twist buried in there that recontextualises the entire "spins" plot, The Night Stairs earns its gothic trappings by grounding them in very human motives: guilt, ambition, the lengths people go to protect the people and institutions they love, and the way trauma gets inherited by an entire community even when only a handful of people know the truth. It's a locked-room mystery dressed in a school uniform, and it is, genuinely, a hoot, right up until it very much isn't.
If you love boarding school fiction with a proper gothic spine, layered mysteries, literary references and characters who feel vividly alive, The Night Stairs is an easy recommendation. Kelly takes familiar ingredients, including haunted schools, Catholic ritual, adolescent friendships and old secrets, and turns them into something surprisingly fresh. Beneath the mystery sits a thoughtful novel about the stories people create, inherit and choose to believe, and about the extraordinary power those stories have to shape lives.
The Night Stairs is funny, unsettling, emotionally generous and, by the final pages, genuinely moving. Very much worth the climb. #pudseyrecommends
Thanks to Random House UK, Vintage | Harvilland & NetGalley for the ARC.
Kelly sets the tone before the story even starts. The book opens with an epigraph from the priest in Fleabag, delivering his one-word instruction, "kneel." From that alone, you know exactly what you're in for. Kelly has a wonderfully dry comic touch. For a novel dealing in dead nuns and disappearing pupils, it is, genuinely, a dark delight.
St Cordula's Roman Catholic School for Girls occupies a Yorkshire valley shaped by six centuries of Catholic history. It is a place, Kelly tells us early on, that is "less a collection of buildings than one of standing stones excavated from the North Yorkshire Moors." Ravens nest in its ramparts. Its convent, its abbey, its founding saint who almost certainly never existed: all of it is history the girls are meant to absorb without question. Running through the middle of the building, connecting the headmistress's rooms to the old abbey, are the night stairs themselves: narrow, uneven, and the site of a boarding school ritual so persistent that even the staff won't walk near them after dark.
The Night Stairs is structured in four parts named for books of the Bible: Genesis, Acts, Exodus and Revelation. Within them, Kelly threads two timelines. One runs through the present day across a single tense week of weekdays. The other runs from 1997 to 2002, tracking a group of pupils as they arrive as eleven-year-olds and grow into the girls, and then the women, they become.
Each chapter is told from a particular character's point of view, and Kelly populates the novel with a fabulous ensemble. There is Jessica, the bookish scholarship girl with a passion for old things and nineteenth-century novels, and Becks, who is furious, funny, sharp-tongued, class-conscious, and quietly working through her own sexuality long before the people around her begin to understand it. Becks’ obsessive book mapping and the “Book of Books” she gradually builds with Jessica, hiding floor plans of Manderley, Thornfield Hall, and Salem beneath a mattress, are among the most tender depictions of a certain kind of private, all-consuming reader-love I’ve come across.
Kelly's secondary characters are just as memorable. Persey rebels against expectation with a Joan of Arc haircut and razor-sharp wit, while Marisol, in red lipstick, black clothes and what Kelly memorably describes as "hip-hop levels of religious bling", steals every scene she's in. Then there is Greer, the housemistress turned headmistress, forty-two and devout, mothering "dozens" of girls she'll never bear herself.
I cannot forget Fiona, the present-day deputy head, who was a pupil here once under a different name entirely, and who has spent years making sure nobody recognises her. This last thread is the engine of the whole novel. Fiona's reinvention (a broken nose reset to resemble someone else's, four stone gained, and hair gone silver early) isn't vanity. It's armour. Kelly lets us sit in the discomfort of not knowing why for a very long time, doling out fragments: a shredded school magazine, a locked door she cannot bring herself to walk through, a confession overheard in an empty chapel, until the pressure becomes almost unbearable.
The present-day plot kicks off properly when a wave of what the school calls "the spins", clinically known as mass psychogenic illness, sweeps through the pupils, exactly as it did once before, in the year the past timeline begins. At the heart of the legend is Sister Matilda, a novitiate said to have died on the night stairs centuries ago. The ritual attached to her, which involves saying her name three times in a mirror and climbing the stairs after lights out, has the particular, sticky power of a story that everyone claims not to believe and nobody can quite let go of. Kelly is very good on why. "Only God turns stories into stone," Fiona thinks, standing in the abbey, and it's as good a thesis statement for the whole novel as any.
What makes the "spins" so compelling is that Kelly refuses to treat them as either simple superstition or medical curiosity. Instead, they become a way of exploring the stories institutions tell, the secrets young women inherit, and the ways bodies sometimes articulate what words cannot. The novel keeps returning to the uneasy relationship between narrative and belief, whether that narrative is religious, historical or psychological.
What I loved most is how unsentimental Kelly is about faith, institutions and the stories communities tell to survive. Mother Imelda's decades of discipline and denial versus Greer's radical, sometimes overextended, compassion. The scandal-scarred boys' school St Cordula's is being forced to merge with. The class and race politics running beneath the surface of a "traditional intake". None of it is delivered as a lecture. It arrives sideways, in throwaway lines and overheard staffroom conversations, the way institutional rot actually reveals itself.
Kelly also has enormous fun with the literary bones of her own novel. Carrie, The Crucible, Never Let Me Go, Rebecca, the Brontës and even Jilly Cooper all appear naturally through what the girls are reading, rather than as decorative references. It's exactly the sort of bibliophile Easter egg that makes a novel like this such a pleasure.
Without spoiling the mechanics of the final act, and there is a properly nasty, brilliantly constructed twist buried in there that recontextualises the entire "spins" plot, The Night Stairs earns its gothic trappings by grounding them in very human motives: guilt, ambition, the lengths people go to protect the people and institutions they love, and the way trauma gets inherited by an entire community even when only a handful of people know the truth. It's a locked-room mystery dressed in a school uniform, and it is, genuinely, a hoot, right up until it very much isn't.
If you love boarding school fiction with a proper gothic spine, layered mysteries, literary references and characters who feel vividly alive, The Night Stairs is an easy recommendation. Kelly takes familiar ingredients, including haunted schools, Catholic ritual, adolescent friendships and old secrets, and turns them into something surprisingly fresh. Beneath the mystery sits a thoughtful novel about the stories people create, inherit and choose to believe, and about the extraordinary power those stories have to shape lives.
The Night Stairs is funny, unsettling, emotionally generous and, by the final pages, genuinely moving. Very much worth the climb. #pudseyrecommends
Thanks to Random House UK, Vintage | Harvilland & NetGalley for the ARC.
September 1, 2026
Thank you to NetGalley, the publishers and the author for access to this ARC in exchange for an honest review 📚
Genre/Themes: 🐦⬛✝️⛪️🔔⚜️📚🕵🏼♀️
Tropes: Set at a Boarding School, Hidden Identity, Buried Secrets, Conspiracy, Accidental Murder, Bully, Coming of Age, Coming Out, New Girl in Town, Second Chance, Blackmail, Eccentric Characters, Historical Buildings, Psychological Disorder, Red Herring
Rating: 🌕🌕🌕
✍🏻 Full Review - RISK OF SPOILERS 🛑
What Worked for Me ✅
This felt like a really unique approach to the boarding school trope, with the subject of MPI (mass psychological illness) being an interesting forefront to the more common themes - like class wars, sex scandals and crime mysteries. I’d never heard of MPI before, and loved the realistic way it was written through a modern lens, with treatment being CBT and peer influence. My favourite aspect of the novel was the characterisation of the protagonists Kylie, Rebecca and Jessica. They felt intimately real, down to Jessica’s neurodivergence, Kylie’s culture shock and Rebecca’s abandonment issues. Their arguments were teenage girls down to a T, as was the clique culture of the school. ‘Otherness’ was really well presented in the novel, including those being ironically held back by being ahead, like Amelie. I loved that there was no singular villain - Mother Imelda was certainly one, Hetty Harrington another - but we learnt that almost all of the characters had deep set flaws, and it’s revealed that Amelie and Rebecca were less obvious villains too. Another over-arching theme was that of Catholic guilt. In Jessica it presented as homophobia, in Mother Imelda an internalised misogyny and classism, and in Greer a feeling of inadequacy. Greer in particular was a fascinating character and although not religious myself I really felt her desperation to be spoken to by God, to be given a clear sign to take the Cloth, to find a calling, and the reveal of the secret she had held added more layers to her anxieties. The book didn’t shy away from the sexual abuse in the church or in schools either, and again I liked the modern lens of this through the young attractive Father who had learnt how to protect his students and himself from the power imbalance his position held. Another favourite aspect was the slow reveal of The Second Girl’s identity. My guess changed several times, and no part of me even suspected the twist. That felt really satisfying. Scenes like the muck-up day incident - a school wide mockery of Kylie orchestrated by Hetty - filled me with genuine rage and I was able to relate to the feeling of ‘popular’ girls using their status and class to mock those ‘below’ them.
Room for Improvement 🔎
I definitely felt this book was too long. Some tighter developmental editing would have helped to sharpen the beat-by-beat plot and make it feel punchier and more concise. As it stood, I didn’t feel the story really got moving until the 50-75% mark, which made that first half very difficult to get through. While a lot of the class discourse and the depiction of parents in the novel felt realistic - such as the ‘Old Cordelian’ families getting preferential treatment, or just those with the most money - other aspects felt a bit caricature. For example, it felt silly that the parents refused to send their children back to the school until Sister Matilda’s words had been re-painted, or Hetty getting her education paid for after her father ‘fucked up at work’. Realistically, someone as snobby as Mother Imelda would have looked down on Hetty’s family as soon as their money was gone. I found Amelie’s storyline perhaps too big to effectively fit in the novel, namely her high-level of intelligence translating into enough boredom to try and inflict school-wide sickness. When she casually diagnosed herself with ‘narcissistic sociopathy’ I felt that opened up even more questions - considering her intelligence and knowledge would tell her a narcissist would never recognise themselves as a narcissist - which weren’t answered. In fact, I disliked her ending generally. I couldn’t fathom why Fiona felt that she ‘owed’ her a cover-up after Greer’s cover-up, when they were totally different situations - Greer believed her situation to be a tragic accident, protecting innocent children, whereas Fiona knew Amelia acted with malice and intent and was planning to work with the vulnerable public. It felt like Fiona hadn’t learnt a single lesson at all. Rebecca and Greer’s end also felt a little melodramatic compared to the tone of the rest of the book, leaning more into an unrealistic-caricature-drama feel for me personally. I was somewhat disappointed that the paranormal/gothic themes of Sister Matilda weren’t leant in to more, as perhaps this tragic ending would have felt more appropriate. Another pet peeve of mine was the internalised misogyny used to make adult Hetty and co. appear villainous, namely the mockery of Botox/filler/surgery. It is such a lazy trope I have noticed, especially in millennial female writers, and removes all the nuance surrounding the topic of plastic surgery and its role in the patriarchy. The references in the novel took me out of the immersion occasionally, too, as many of them were esoteric references to things more popular or prevalent in the upper classes of England (I am working class) or in Catholicism (I am atheist). I think this made setting a little difficult to grasp for me on occasion - by the end of the novel I still couldn’t really picture where the ‘night stairs’ and ‘night chapel’ were supposed to be or what they looked like within the abbey. Was it just the bannister where an organ was placed? This ARC had a lot of typos too which I hope were spotted before release.
Overall if you like literary fiction delving into faith, mystery, class and sisterhood - both religious and not - then this could be for you.
Genre/Themes: 🐦⬛✝️⛪️🔔⚜️📚🕵🏼♀️
Tropes: Set at a Boarding School, Hidden Identity, Buried Secrets, Conspiracy, Accidental Murder, Bully, Coming of Age, Coming Out, New Girl in Town, Second Chance, Blackmail, Eccentric Characters, Historical Buildings, Psychological Disorder, Red Herring
Rating: 🌕🌕🌕
✍🏻 Full Review - RISK OF SPOILERS 🛑
What Worked for Me ✅
This felt like a really unique approach to the boarding school trope, with the subject of MPI (mass psychological illness) being an interesting forefront to the more common themes - like class wars, sex scandals and crime mysteries. I’d never heard of MPI before, and loved the realistic way it was written through a modern lens, with treatment being CBT and peer influence. My favourite aspect of the novel was the characterisation of the protagonists Kylie, Rebecca and Jessica. They felt intimately real, down to Jessica’s neurodivergence, Kylie’s culture shock and Rebecca’s abandonment issues. Their arguments were teenage girls down to a T, as was the clique culture of the school. ‘Otherness’ was really well presented in the novel, including those being ironically held back by being ahead, like Amelie. I loved that there was no singular villain - Mother Imelda was certainly one, Hetty Harrington another - but we learnt that almost all of the characters had deep set flaws, and it’s revealed that Amelie and Rebecca were less obvious villains too. Another over-arching theme was that of Catholic guilt. In Jessica it presented as homophobia, in Mother Imelda an internalised misogyny and classism, and in Greer a feeling of inadequacy. Greer in particular was a fascinating character and although not religious myself I really felt her desperation to be spoken to by God, to be given a clear sign to take the Cloth, to find a calling, and the reveal of the secret she had held added more layers to her anxieties. The book didn’t shy away from the sexual abuse in the church or in schools either, and again I liked the modern lens of this through the young attractive Father who had learnt how to protect his students and himself from the power imbalance his position held. Another favourite aspect was the slow reveal of The Second Girl’s identity. My guess changed several times, and no part of me even suspected the twist. That felt really satisfying. Scenes like the muck-up day incident - a school wide mockery of Kylie orchestrated by Hetty - filled me with genuine rage and I was able to relate to the feeling of ‘popular’ girls using their status and class to mock those ‘below’ them.
Room for Improvement 🔎
I definitely felt this book was too long. Some tighter developmental editing would have helped to sharpen the beat-by-beat plot and make it feel punchier and more concise. As it stood, I didn’t feel the story really got moving until the 50-75% mark, which made that first half very difficult to get through. While a lot of the class discourse and the depiction of parents in the novel felt realistic - such as the ‘Old Cordelian’ families getting preferential treatment, or just those with the most money - other aspects felt a bit caricature. For example, it felt silly that the parents refused to send their children back to the school until Sister Matilda’s words had been re-painted, or Hetty getting her education paid for after her father ‘fucked up at work’. Realistically, someone as snobby as Mother Imelda would have looked down on Hetty’s family as soon as their money was gone. I found Amelie’s storyline perhaps too big to effectively fit in the novel, namely her high-level of intelligence translating into enough boredom to try and inflict school-wide sickness. When she casually diagnosed herself with ‘narcissistic sociopathy’ I felt that opened up even more questions - considering her intelligence and knowledge would tell her a narcissist would never recognise themselves as a narcissist - which weren’t answered. In fact, I disliked her ending generally. I couldn’t fathom why Fiona felt that she ‘owed’ her a cover-up after Greer’s cover-up, when they were totally different situations - Greer believed her situation to be a tragic accident, protecting innocent children, whereas Fiona knew Amelia acted with malice and intent and was planning to work with the vulnerable public. It felt like Fiona hadn’t learnt a single lesson at all. Rebecca and Greer’s end also felt a little melodramatic compared to the tone of the rest of the book, leaning more into an unrealistic-caricature-drama feel for me personally. I was somewhat disappointed that the paranormal/gothic themes of Sister Matilda weren’t leant in to more, as perhaps this tragic ending would have felt more appropriate. Another pet peeve of mine was the internalised misogyny used to make adult Hetty and co. appear villainous, namely the mockery of Botox/filler/surgery. It is such a lazy trope I have noticed, especially in millennial female writers, and removes all the nuance surrounding the topic of plastic surgery and its role in the patriarchy. The references in the novel took me out of the immersion occasionally, too, as many of them were esoteric references to things more popular or prevalent in the upper classes of England (I am working class) or in Catholicism (I am atheist). I think this made setting a little difficult to grasp for me on occasion - by the end of the novel I still couldn’t really picture where the ‘night stairs’ and ‘night chapel’ were supposed to be or what they looked like within the abbey. Was it just the bannister where an organ was placed? This ARC had a lot of typos too which I hope were spotted before release.
Overall if you like literary fiction delving into faith, mystery, class and sisterhood - both religious and not - then this could be for you.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
This was an all-consuming, claustrophobic, gothic, dark academia style thriller. I am obsessed.
At an isolated Catholic boarding school for girls, legend has it that a long-deceased nun, Sister Matilda, keeps the school safe if her words “God forgive me” are kept chalked at the top of the stairs on the wall of the night chapel. The school is going through a tricky time with a merger, and deputy head, Fiona Fox is at the helm of it, and suddenly the girls are experiencing “the spins”, a mass psychogenic illness that spreads through the school. This has happened before, when the words on the wall were allowed to fade about 20 years ago, and ended in an incident so terrible that it is only revealed in parts to us as we flash back into the past. Fiona has to get her school in order before its secrets are uncovered.
Right from the opening page, this book was so uncomfortably familiar to me. I went to a Catholic boarding school (albeit it as a day girl) on the edge of the North Yorkshire moors that was set in a valley where “valley fever” was a widely talked about school issue. It was so eerily similar to my school experience (minus the more extreme version of the mass hysteria that affects the school) that I actually turned to Ben to ask if I had written this without realising! I was drawing parallels here, there and everywhere, and my actual school was name-dropped not that far into the book which was a surreal experience.
I was utterly enthralled by this book. Clearly it felt true to life for me, and not just from the eerie parallels.
While the story sounds like a basic adolescent YA dark academia novel, having teachers’ perspectives makes it that bit more grown up. Those of us who grew up reading the coming of age boarding school books are now the grown ups, and while it’s vaguely thrilling to look back at the intensity and toxicity of those teenage years, we now find ourselves identifying just as much with the adults. But now these adults are “trapped” back in a world they never really left. I know how easy that would be - the valley always draws you back. The adults are supposed to be grown up, saving the school from financial ruin (is that ever truer for private schools than right now!), but they still feel juvenile - I’ve never seen anyone describe valley fever in a more true to life way.
Looking at the other reviews, there is some discourse about what’s known as “dead lesbian syndrome”, and I can absolutely see where this is coming from. It’s a harmful stereotype and as such, the storyline needs to be careful not to fall into the trap of framing its only queer characters through a villainous or tragic lens. However, looking at it from the perspective of the fictional characters - this viewpoint is so true to how anyone even vaguely suspected of having anything outside of totally straight attractions might have been perceived. Having been in a Catholic boarding school in the 90s and 00s, if you were slightly different, you were classed as one of the weird ones, and for some reason, the narrative went down the path that you must be lesbian - and that was a “bad thing”. I’m definitely not saying this is okay - this is the context this story is written in and it feels so true to life for me. Even the adults in this story still act like children, they’re party to all kinds of deceptions and lies - and keeping them that way demonstrates their immaturity. They might be talking about school mergers and financial difficulties, but at the end of the day, from the lay teachers to the nuns, they’re people abusing their positions of power for their own gain. They’re stuck in their ways from their youth, the same way that they’re stuck in the valley.
I get that it’s tricky to navigate this trope, and it’s a valid conversation to have. But in my eyes, erasing that element would mean sanitising the very real prejudices of that specific era and environment. The story relies on showing how that toxicity breeds
Aside from all of the above, the story was told so well. I love a good thriller, and this one was next level for me. It was dark and twisty. It also had similarities to stories from my all-time favourite author, Carol Goodman in her books like The Lake of Dead Languages. It throws you back into the past, then into the present, the story paralleling the reading experience as you flip-flop between timelines and perspectives so you feel like the poor girls experiencing the spins.
It’s not yet published but I’ve already recommended it to an old school friend, and will probably mention it to a handful more. Maybe I just connected so well with the story thanks to how well I knew this type of life, but it was such a brilliant all-consuming book.
Thank you to Netgalley, the author and the publishers for an ARC of this book.
At an isolated Catholic boarding school for girls, legend has it that a long-deceased nun, Sister Matilda, keeps the school safe if her words “God forgive me” are kept chalked at the top of the stairs on the wall of the night chapel. The school is going through a tricky time with a merger, and deputy head, Fiona Fox is at the helm of it, and suddenly the girls are experiencing “the spins”, a mass psychogenic illness that spreads through the school. This has happened before, when the words on the wall were allowed to fade about 20 years ago, and ended in an incident so terrible that it is only revealed in parts to us as we flash back into the past. Fiona has to get her school in order before its secrets are uncovered.
Right from the opening page, this book was so uncomfortably familiar to me. I went to a Catholic boarding school (albeit it as a day girl) on the edge of the North Yorkshire moors that was set in a valley where “valley fever” was a widely talked about school issue. It was so eerily similar to my school experience (minus the more extreme version of the mass hysteria that affects the school) that I actually turned to Ben to ask if I had written this without realising! I was drawing parallels here, there and everywhere, and my actual school was name-dropped not that far into the book which was a surreal experience.
I was utterly enthralled by this book. Clearly it felt true to life for me, and not just from the eerie parallels.
While the story sounds like a basic adolescent YA dark academia novel, having teachers’ perspectives makes it that bit more grown up. Those of us who grew up reading the coming of age boarding school books are now the grown ups, and while it’s vaguely thrilling to look back at the intensity and toxicity of those teenage years, we now find ourselves identifying just as much with the adults. But now these adults are “trapped” back in a world they never really left. I know how easy that would be - the valley always draws you back. The adults are supposed to be grown up, saving the school from financial ruin (is that ever truer for private schools than right now!), but they still feel juvenile - I’ve never seen anyone describe valley fever in a more true to life way.
Looking at the other reviews, there is some discourse about what’s known as “dead lesbian syndrome”, and I can absolutely see where this is coming from. It’s a harmful stereotype and as such, the storyline needs to be careful not to fall into the trap of framing its only queer characters through a villainous or tragic lens. However, looking at it from the perspective of the fictional characters - this viewpoint is so true to how anyone even vaguely suspected of having anything outside of totally straight attractions might have been perceived. Having been in a Catholic boarding school in the 90s and 00s, if you were slightly different, you were classed as one of the weird ones, and for some reason, the narrative went down the path that you must be lesbian - and that was a “bad thing”. I’m definitely not saying this is okay - this is the context this story is written in and it feels so true to life for me. Even the adults in this story still act like children, they’re party to all kinds of deceptions and lies - and keeping them that way demonstrates their immaturity. They might be talking about school mergers and financial difficulties, but at the end of the day, from the lay teachers to the nuns, they’re people abusing their positions of power for their own gain. They’re stuck in their ways from their youth, the same way that they’re stuck in the valley.
I get that it’s tricky to navigate this trope, and it’s a valid conversation to have. But in my eyes, erasing that element would mean sanitising the very real prejudices of that specific era and environment. The story relies on showing how that toxicity breeds
Aside from all of the above, the story was told so well. I love a good thriller, and this one was next level for me. It was dark and twisty. It also had similarities to stories from my all-time favourite author, Carol Goodman in her books like The Lake of Dead Languages. It throws you back into the past, then into the present, the story paralleling the reading experience as you flip-flop between timelines and perspectives so you feel like the poor girls experiencing the spins.
It’s not yet published but I’ve already recommended it to an old school friend, and will probably mention it to a handful more. Maybe I just connected so well with the story thanks to how well I knew this type of life, but it was such a brilliant all-consuming book.
Thank you to Netgalley, the author and the publishers for an ARC of this book.
August 17, 2026
I will not let Sister Matilda claim another life. There will be no Third Girl. See how pernicious the legend is? How can I blame the girls when I, who should know better, am thinking like this?
At convent school, St Cordula's, legend has it that the ghost of Sister Matilda, a nun from the 15th century, protects the school. That is, as long as her last words, 'God Forgive Me', scratched on a wall of the abbey, remain etched there. They were written just before she fell to her death on the 'night stairs' of the abbey. In 2002, when the words are allowed to fade, girls at the school fall victim to the psychogenic phenomenon known as the spins, which gives them vertigo and severe nausea. Half the school is affected, and a second girl dies. Just three people know what really happened. Now, a former pupil who's changed her name to Fiona Fox is about to become headmistress of the school. But she's carrying secrets that could see not just her own downfall, but that of the entire school.
I requested the eARC for this because I absolutely loved 'The Skeleton Key' by Erin Kelly (a brilliant book) and was really excited to read this one. Unfortunately, it just didn't quite hit right for me. It's not a bad book at all; it just wasn't as compelling as I had hoped – I was looking for a mystery/thriller, and while there were a number of secrets and twists in the plot, they lacked the gut punch that, for me, is the hallmark of a compelling thriller.
Fiona Fox, the deputy headmistress, who is the main narrator in the present, is an intriguing character, partly because her background and real identity are only revealed in increments, though I did sort of guess who she really was. The three girls connected to the death of 'The Second Girl' are all given space in the narrative in the past, as well as the current headmistress of the school, Greer.
My biggest gripe is that some of the mystery in the plot becomes a bit convoluted. It's not difficult to follow; it just feels like the author is trying too hard to include as many secrets as possible. I often feel like one or two really powerful and unexpected twists work better than many smaller ones.
I also didn't find the ending very satisfying. It felt rushed, hurtling at the reader too quickly to take in the impact of the climax and to feel shocked or sad or intrigued.
Again, not a bad book – I completed it easily and never thought of DNFing. It just kind of missed the mark of what I was looking for.
Thanks to NetGalley and Vintage (Penguin Random House) for granting me an eARC in exchange for an honest review.
Other notable quotes:
The point was not to have friends you could do things with. You could do stuff with anyone. Stuff was what you had to do with people who didn't get you, to give you some kind of common ground. The meaning of life was to find the people you could do nothing with and for that to feel like home.
What is religion but story on the ultimate scale? Like people, stories can work for or against you. Like people, once stories have taken root they remain part of you whether you like it or not.
Puberty is a series of lurches from one state to another. The explosion of femaleness can feel disabling, with the cramps and the bleeding and the urges and the confusion about being looked at. Witchcraft reclaims that chaos as power. What's not to love? And convent girls are especially vulnerable.
They're still young enough to feel that it's better to be haunted by something real than fooled by a story. As if there is anything more powerful than a story! I've devoted my life to the beauty of stories. St Cordula's convent, every church in the world, is here because of story, the most famous story in the world.
I look at heads bowed over pages and feel an overwhelming surge of duty and – why not admit it? – love for these girls. Every risk taken, every rule broken, has always been for their benefit. We are the adults and it is our job to protect them. They are mostly still on the cusp of adolescence, their brains as malleable as melted candlewax.
July 10, 2026
I love Erin Kelly’s writing and a new novel from this author is always a must read for me. The Night Stairs blends gothic suspense and psychological intrigue with the corrosive power of secrets, all mixed together in a girl’s boarding school.
Set in St Cordula’s, a centuries old Catholic boarding school for girls threatened by closure and modernisation, the novel centres on a supposedly cursed staircase, a dead schoolgirl and a mysterious outbreak of vertigo which everyone calls ‘The Spins’
The Spins are born from the Sister Matilda legend which has become the schools own ghost story. According to school legend, Sister Matilda was a fifteenth-century nun who fell to her death on the staircase known as the “night stairs.” Before she died, she supposedly wrote the words “GOD FORGIVE ME” on the wall. The pupils believe that Sister Matilda’s spirit protects the school, but only if those words are repainted every year. When, in 2002, the words were allowed to fade, a pupil died after falling down the stairs and a mysterious outbreak of ‘the spins’ spread through the school. Now the vertigo is making a reappearance with the current set of pupils.
The Night Stairs is a dual timeline story, set in the present day and in 2002.
St. Cordula’s traditions are both comforting and threatening. Eerie corridors, shadowy staircases and religious cubicles dominate the school. The image of the fading words “GOD FORGIVE ME” stands as a symbol of guilt and a reminder that the past is never really buried. The atmosphere is so well done. The whole way through, the novel gives off a palpable sense that something is wrong in this school, and that unease shines out from every page.
I enjoyed Erin Kelly’s exploration of the tension between faith and superstition, questioning whether the school’s troubles stem from a genuine curse, collective psychology or something far more human. The Catholic backdrop also intensifies themes of guilt, confession, sin and redemption.
At the heart of the novel is Fiona Fox. As Deputy Head, she is responsible for guiding St Cordula’s through a period of enormous change, yet she is also haunted by events from the past. Fiona carries secrets with her and those secrets give this story its emotional heft. She’s not an especially likeable character, perhaps because she keeps herself so closed off, so it is hard to really empathise with her.
As the present vertigo outbreak spreads, it’s clear there are too many similarities with the earlier outbreak to ignore. As we learn more about the events of the past, a theme of betrayal emerges. Friends betray friends. Staff betray pupils. The school betrays those it was supposed to protect. Fiona Fox knows the truth, now she has to choose between loyalty and truth.
The Night Stairs is a gothic mystery of the human secrets that lie beneath a haunting myth. A centuries old curse may be what sends the pupils spinning but the real curse lies in what people are willing to do to protect themselves and the reputation of St Cordula’s.
The novel does rely on secrecy rather than investigation to sustain suspense. Fiona’s reluctance to confront her past slows the pace, especially in the middle section, and several of the supporting characters never really emerge as fully formed characters.
Yet I still think that the atmosphere, sense of place and psychological insight are incredibly well done. By the final section, the novel reaches an intense and surprising climax that absolutely fits the plot but which I did not see coming.
Verdict: Atmospheric, Gothic, and full of insight into the world of what it’s like to be in a formally religious Catholic girls school, The Night Stairs is intelligent, dark and immersive.
Set in St Cordula’s, a centuries old Catholic boarding school for girls threatened by closure and modernisation, the novel centres on a supposedly cursed staircase, a dead schoolgirl and a mysterious outbreak of vertigo which everyone calls ‘The Spins’
The Spins are born from the Sister Matilda legend which has become the schools own ghost story. According to school legend, Sister Matilda was a fifteenth-century nun who fell to her death on the staircase known as the “night stairs.” Before she died, she supposedly wrote the words “GOD FORGIVE ME” on the wall. The pupils believe that Sister Matilda’s spirit protects the school, but only if those words are repainted every year. When, in 2002, the words were allowed to fade, a pupil died after falling down the stairs and a mysterious outbreak of ‘the spins’ spread through the school. Now the vertigo is making a reappearance with the current set of pupils.
The Night Stairs is a dual timeline story, set in the present day and in 2002.
St. Cordula’s traditions are both comforting and threatening. Eerie corridors, shadowy staircases and religious cubicles dominate the school. The image of the fading words “GOD FORGIVE ME” stands as a symbol of guilt and a reminder that the past is never really buried. The atmosphere is so well done. The whole way through, the novel gives off a palpable sense that something is wrong in this school, and that unease shines out from every page.
I enjoyed Erin Kelly’s exploration of the tension between faith and superstition, questioning whether the school’s troubles stem from a genuine curse, collective psychology or something far more human. The Catholic backdrop also intensifies themes of guilt, confession, sin and redemption.
At the heart of the novel is Fiona Fox. As Deputy Head, she is responsible for guiding St Cordula’s through a period of enormous change, yet she is also haunted by events from the past. Fiona carries secrets with her and those secrets give this story its emotional heft. She’s not an especially likeable character, perhaps because she keeps herself so closed off, so it is hard to really empathise with her.
As the present vertigo outbreak spreads, it’s clear there are too many similarities with the earlier outbreak to ignore. As we learn more about the events of the past, a theme of betrayal emerges. Friends betray friends. Staff betray pupils. The school betrays those it was supposed to protect. Fiona Fox knows the truth, now she has to choose between loyalty and truth.
The Night Stairs is a gothic mystery of the human secrets that lie beneath a haunting myth. A centuries old curse may be what sends the pupils spinning but the real curse lies in what people are willing to do to protect themselves and the reputation of St Cordula’s.
The novel does rely on secrecy rather than investigation to sustain suspense. Fiona’s reluctance to confront her past slows the pace, especially in the middle section, and several of the supporting characters never really emerge as fully formed characters.
Yet I still think that the atmosphere, sense of place and psychological insight are incredibly well done. By the final section, the novel reaches an intense and surprising climax that absolutely fits the plot but which I did not see coming.
Verdict: Atmospheric, Gothic, and full of insight into the world of what it’s like to be in a formally religious Catholic girls school, The Night Stairs is intelligent, dark and immersive.
August 13, 2026
Be it a total eclipse or an armchair treasure hunt, the reason I love reading Erin Kelly is that she often include in her mysteries something obscure and not often seen in this genre and it always makes it better and honestly, memorable to me. She does it as well in this novel which is a bit gothic and a bit "Heavenly Creatures", but a fine read all the same.
The Night Stairs tackles a haunted history of British catholic boarding schools, friendship and viciousness of teenage girls and a higher calling. Set in St Cordula's school, Deputy Head Fiona Fox is trying everything to keep the school afloat with a new Hail Mary plan. Boarding schools rely on students and they can afford parents pulling their kids from school, so when one girl faints and after her another one, Fiona panics because nothing would be more disastrous for St Cordula's then the return of "spins". Headmistress Greer Howard remembers the events from twenty years ago when girls started fainting first and three girls at the center of it. She wonders why are "spins" happening again and whether He has a duty for her- to prevent another death of St Cordula's student.
The story follows this dual narrative timeline all the way to the end. One is happening in 2001/2002 told from the point of view of Greer who was a teacher back then and Becks, Jessica and Kylie, three girls who formed a strong friendship over being a little bit weird and outcasts. I have to say that Kelly really managed to make teenage girls sound authentic and it goes for every girl mentioned in the story: she made them distinctive enough so you can grasp the social dynamic of the school.
The other timeline is set in present time and it mainly focuses on Fiona who, as we soon find out, harbors secrets of her own. We know that something happened twenty years ago, something that doesn't fit the official story or the myth about Saint Mathilda shared between the students. So, when a particularly bright student Amelie goes to her with questions and relentless wish to dig into mystery she is tormented. There is a nuanced debate about fate and doubts between Fiona and Greer enriching their characters. And this is a good place to say that this book is not for those who want a quick suspense story- this is Erin Kelly doing what she does really well which is characterization. She builds her characters before she builds a mystery and it may not work for everyone.
It's actually the mystery that affected my rating: I liked it for the most part because there is something arresting in the highs and lows of emotional rollercoaster teenage girls go through and how it affects their lives, but it fizzled into kind of a disappointment at the end because it settles into one bad trope we really need to leave behind and another kind of boring one which was not needed. I think that these characters and dialogue which was great, deserved a better resolution to the mystery.
All in all, not my favorite from Kelly, but well written and engaging.
I would like to thank Netgalley, Random House UK, Vintage | Harvill and Erin Kelly for an advanced copy of The Night Stairs. All opinions are my own.
February 25, 2026
I'm giving four stars (really 3.5, but hey, I'll curve over this time round) but only on the proviso that this advance release copy given to me by Random House and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review didn't come with a map and, once the map is added to the mix, it'll be easier to follow the Cordulans at play.
Kelly is a great fan of the dual narrative. For those who seek nostalgia, they will find, as we join a school that is shrouded in rumour and intrigue. The context: one girl , a sister in the 15th Century fell down the Night Stairs of a chapel a broken woman with an eerie message - God forgive me, thereafter becoming part of religious folklore forever more. Now a private boarding school, it suffered its biggest existential crisis when a second girl, haunted by the 'spins' (a complicated, red-herring which I found the hardest part of the book to adjust to), perished in the same way. For teacher Fiona Fox (I recently read 'Fox' by Carol Joyce Oates, so the similarity to fellow educator Francis Fox did unnerve me, somewhat), her loyalty to the school is vocational, even if she's without the faith that sustains the school. This shall not pass once again on her watch.
So we flit between the hallowed days of 2001-2, when the school faced its initial crisis and on to 2022, where the current cohort (which includes Buffy Summers - great name) seem to be in the throes of mania. The sickness is back but, like always, Erin Kelly's antiheroine is determined to suss out what could be causing this and protect herself... but, why?
I like that the book has one star through to five star reviews. Someone described this as pseudo-intellectual, with the use of polysyllabic words peppered in. I'd say this book is wrapped in dark academia and therefore, needs that sense of intellectual curiosity. It also, of course, has plenty, pleeeeeenty of pomp and pageantry. Why not? As Kelly has an eye for nostalgia (the vibes of a film like Cruel Intentions is on show here), there's a pleasing tribute to bonkbuster extraordinare Jilly Cooper (I also like that Kelly referenced 'bonkbuster' at least once) to ensure that the book gets people with the rose-tinted lenses of the past. With 83 chapters, this is not a breezy read and further criticisms that the narrative back and forth doesn't always flow are entirely valid.
Finally, some are livid with the ending. No spoilers here but it was definitely a choice and is indicative that the characters in a Kelly novel are 'okay' on the surface level but are evidently living in purgatory. Finally, at least one person has revealed the final line, which is a shame because it's a really excellent line that nicely summarises the black, jaded humour that guides her antiheroines.
Overall, a claustrophobic, gothic read that took a lot of ambition to get down on paper. As I summarised to the author: Your characters really do have to leave their inhibitions at the door, jettison their moral compass out the window and, if we talk religious fervour, bury their secrets, all the while knowing that a pact is only as steady as those who maintain it and that actions really do have consequences...
Kelly is a great fan of the dual narrative. For those who seek nostalgia, they will find, as we join a school that is shrouded in rumour and intrigue. The context: one girl , a sister in the 15th Century fell down the Night Stairs of a chapel a broken woman with an eerie message - God forgive me, thereafter becoming part of religious folklore forever more. Now a private boarding school, it suffered its biggest existential crisis when a second girl, haunted by the 'spins' (a complicated, red-herring which I found the hardest part of the book to adjust to), perished in the same way. For teacher Fiona Fox (I recently read 'Fox' by Carol Joyce Oates, so the similarity to fellow educator Francis Fox did unnerve me, somewhat), her loyalty to the school is vocational, even if she's without the faith that sustains the school. This shall not pass once again on her watch.
So we flit between the hallowed days of 2001-2, when the school faced its initial crisis and on to 2022, where the current cohort (which includes Buffy Summers - great name) seem to be in the throes of mania. The sickness is back but, like always, Erin Kelly's antiheroine is determined to suss out what could be causing this and protect herself... but, why?
I like that the book has one star through to five star reviews. Someone described this as pseudo-intellectual, with the use of polysyllabic words peppered in. I'd say this book is wrapped in dark academia and therefore, needs that sense of intellectual curiosity. It also, of course, has plenty, pleeeeeenty of pomp and pageantry. Why not? As Kelly has an eye for nostalgia (the vibes of a film like Cruel Intentions is on show here), there's a pleasing tribute to bonkbuster extraordinare Jilly Cooper (I also like that Kelly referenced 'bonkbuster' at least once) to ensure that the book gets people with the rose-tinted lenses of the past. With 83 chapters, this is not a breezy read and further criticisms that the narrative back and forth doesn't always flow are entirely valid.
Finally, some are livid with the ending. No spoilers here but it was definitely a choice and is indicative that the characters in a Kelly novel are 'okay' on the surface level but are evidently living in purgatory. Finally, at least one person has revealed the final line, which is a shame because it's a really excellent line that nicely summarises the black, jaded humour that guides her antiheroines.
Overall, a claustrophobic, gothic read that took a lot of ambition to get down on paper. As I summarised to the author: Your characters really do have to leave their inhibitions at the door, jettison their moral compass out the window and, if we talk religious fervour, bury their secrets, all the while knowing that a pact is only as steady as those who maintain it and that actions really do have consequences...
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
3.5
Thanks to NetGalley and Harvill for the advanced copy of this title in return for an honest review.
I've only read one Erin Kelly book - He Said She Said - but I do own others, and this sounded really promising.
The book I have read of hers was a thriller and whilst this is too in a way, and I do know it's set in modern times, it felt more historical and gothic. This ancient feeling like you were being led into this sacred historical age. It was completely different to what I was expecting.
You need your wits about you. It flits, not only between times, but also by character POV. So you've really got to keep on top of it otherwise you won't know when you are and who with.
It's a story that is about 95% female led, which was interesting. Most fiction books will have more of an even split, but being set in a single-sex school, this was obviously very heavy on females. There are a lot of characters and they could have easily merged together but they're very distinct. You can see so many familiar things in these girls and women, they all have relatable parts and that helps draw you in.
I've seen some complaints about the LGBTQ representation in this book, in very negative terms, by LGBTQ readers. Now, I will say right now that I will not belittle any of their opinions. But as a cis-gendered, heterosexual reader, the problems were not as obvious for me as they might have been for others. Having said that, I did feel some of the relationships between the girls were forced. They could have worked but they felt stereotypical and not really needed. For me, it didn't impact on my enjoyment of the story but I can completely understand why it might do for others.
The characters - children and teachers - were interesting to read. They're not all goodies or baddies - although some definitely lean more into one than the other. None of them are perfect by any means. And some are more likeable and nicer to read about. But I felt there were elements in all of them that most, female, readers could recognise, especially if you have experience in boarding schools of religious education.
I think it needs a detailed map, that would make the setting a bit easier to follow.
I'm not sure how I feel about the tone. It is a thriller, yes, but it feels like a gothic, historical one. There's flashbacks but only to the late 1990s/early 2000s, and that's not historical in my books. The setting, the dialogue, the characters, everything felt old. It was so historical and archaic and I loved that but then there were mobile phones, and it jarred. It never comfortably fit into one tone or another for me.
There is a twist, but I'd read about it before I got to it, so I can't say 100% whether it's obvious or not because I already know about it. But on reflection, I don't think it's an obvious one. I was certainly quite surprised by it, but I wish it had come in a bit earlier.
This is only my second of her books but I do own others and she is definitely an interesting author for slightly unique thrillers, even if this one wasn't quite as heart racing or tense as I was hoping.
Thanks to NetGalley and Harvill for the advanced copy of this title in return for an honest review.
I've only read one Erin Kelly book - He Said She Said - but I do own others, and this sounded really promising.
The book I have read of hers was a thriller and whilst this is too in a way, and I do know it's set in modern times, it felt more historical and gothic. This ancient feeling like you were being led into this sacred historical age. It was completely different to what I was expecting.
You need your wits about you. It flits, not only between times, but also by character POV. So you've really got to keep on top of it otherwise you won't know when you are and who with.
It's a story that is about 95% female led, which was interesting. Most fiction books will have more of an even split, but being set in a single-sex school, this was obviously very heavy on females. There are a lot of characters and they could have easily merged together but they're very distinct. You can see so many familiar things in these girls and women, they all have relatable parts and that helps draw you in.
I've seen some complaints about the LGBTQ representation in this book, in very negative terms, by LGBTQ readers. Now, I will say right now that I will not belittle any of their opinions. But as a cis-gendered, heterosexual reader, the problems were not as obvious for me as they might have been for others. Having said that, I did feel some of the relationships between the girls were forced. They could have worked but they felt stereotypical and not really needed. For me, it didn't impact on my enjoyment of the story but I can completely understand why it might do for others.
The characters - children and teachers - were interesting to read. They're not all goodies or baddies - although some definitely lean more into one than the other. None of them are perfect by any means. And some are more likeable and nicer to read about. But I felt there were elements in all of them that most, female, readers could recognise, especially if you have experience in boarding schools of religious education.
I think it needs a detailed map, that would make the setting a bit easier to follow.
I'm not sure how I feel about the tone. It is a thriller, yes, but it feels like a gothic, historical one. There's flashbacks but only to the late 1990s/early 2000s, and that's not historical in my books. The setting, the dialogue, the characters, everything felt old. It was so historical and archaic and I loved that but then there were mobile phones, and it jarred. It never comfortably fit into one tone or another for me.
There is a twist, but I'd read about it before I got to it, so I can't say 100% whether it's obvious or not because I already know about it. But on reflection, I don't think it's an obvious one. I was certainly quite surprised by it, but I wish it had come in a bit earlier.
This is only my second of her books but I do own others and she is definitely an interesting author for slightly unique thrillers, even if this one wasn't quite as heart racing or tense as I was hoping.
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