Basing a novel on a real life tragedy that has accounted for a wealth of headlines and proved so divisive as the disappearance of Madeleine McCann from Portugal in 2007 is undoubtedly a sticky wicket and mired with potential pitfalls. Firstly, from a UK perspective, the story has rarely been off the front pages and without meaning to be callous, the majority of the general public think that the handling of the investigation has proved an enormous waste of money. Indeed it is hard to justify how much of taxpayers money has been spent on one single investigation without any sign of significant progress. She’s Not There starts with a disconcertingly similar situation in the life of the Shipley family and hints at the answers being found dangerously close to home (which clearly translates to someone very closely connected to the family, narrows down potential suspects significantly and thereby puts a huge dampener on suspense generation). Thus prior to even opening the cover, potential readers have some idea of what it in store, for this is essentially Joy Fielding’s spin on the Madeleine McCann story with names, destinations and specifics changed and with her own fictional answers included and this is where, for me, things went a little awry.
The story opens with forty-six year old high school maths teacher, Caroline Shipley, facing the traumatic anniversary of her two-year-old toddler, Samantha, having disappeared from an upscale Mexican holiday resort and she knows what to expect: media excoriation for her “aloof” and “remote” manner, mutterings of irresponsibility parenting and a few days in the eye of the storm. Approaching this fifteen-year anniversary with familiar unease she receives a telephone call from a young girl by the name of Lili, who has suspicions that she could in fact be Samantha. As Fielding pinballs readers back to the Mexican vacation fifteen years ago she shows San Diego based lawyer Hunter Shipley surprising his wife, Caroline, on their tenth wedding anniversary and whisking her and their daughters, five-year old petulant, Michelle and toddler Samantha, away for a week’s holiday. The Shipley’s are joined by three other couples, including Caroline’s brother and favoured sibling, Steve, and his bickering wife, Becky and two sets of married friends. On the final night when the Shipley’s babysitter is somehow cancelled, Hunter convinces his wife that dining downstairs in sight of their hotel room and checking on the children frequently is sufficient. But when the unthinkable happens and Caroline returns to the room to find Samantha missing and Michelle sleeping soundly, a living nightmare begins. In the present day it is no surprise that the Shipley’s marriage which was floundering at the time has collapsed with Hunter recently newlywed and Caroline bearing the brunt of the scathing media comments and living in relative isolation. As a single parent, Caroline, is left at the mercy of Michelle, now a nineteen year old snarky little madam with a DUI and, on occasions, dripping with acidulous contempt for her mother. Already caught in a constant push-pull and clearly harmful relationship, the pairs acrimony has only been exacerbated by Michelle constantly feeling like the not so fantastic daughter who cannot live up to the memory of perfect toddler, Samantha.
Written entirely from the perspective of mother Caroline, who relives every moment of her life from that fateful day of the disappearance onwards, including her castigation at the hands of the media, the judgemental attitude of the Mexican police, Hunter’s swift return home right through to her struggle to secure another job. Joy Fielding impressed me immeasurably with the characterisation of both Caroline and Michelle particularly, whose perspective she conveyed vividly, despite never actually explicitly giving her a narrative voice. I found Caroline to be largely a sympathetic creation, plagued by her darkest fears, harshly treated by her vicious tongued mother, Mary, who likes to play her children off against each other, with Hunter largely unscathed by the media and hence it is no wonder that she appears so submissive. I was very much on board with Fielding’s understated emotional prose and the novel largely stays in realistic territory, despite my loathing for seedy Hunter, irresponsible brother, Steve and spiteful mother, Mary, who feel like pantomime villains! Thank goodness for Caroline’s best friend and manager of a local hospice, Peggy Banack, whose sensitive support felt authentic. As Lili heads to San Diego for a DNA test, Michelle remains as scornful as ever of her mother falling for another scam, but as Caroline starts to uncover a few aspects that cast that evening in Mexico in a very different light, all bets are off the table.
Whilst still an engaging and thought provoking read which illustrates the no less traumatic events that come after the nightmare disappearance of a child, She’s Not There is almost preternaturally lacking in suspense, largely because for the first two-thirds of the novel Fielding transitions back and forth, playing catch up to the present day. It is only in the final third that the novel remains in the present day with the exception of one flashback scene (where Caroline bizarrely visualises her own take on that night and the thoughts of all parties). In all honesty, the final one-hundred-pages of the novel were far too schmaltzy and contrived for my taste but after a decent two-thirds, I would never have stopped reading. I do suspect though that if the last one-hundred pages had been the first, I would have found She’s Not There a struggle to stick with it.
Despite neither finding this suspenseful and being disappointed with some of the saccharine scenes Fielding includes (the ‘genetic’ tell and repressed memories of Michelle for example), I found this an enjoyable light read that overall has made me reconsider my attitude to the McCann case. Most significantly, the novel has also imbued me with a level of sympathy for the children that are left behind, the ones that do not go missing and are often left to pick up the pieces. I would have appreciated narration from both Michelle and Lili along with mother Caroline for greater depth and a more complete picture on the devastating knock-on effects on a child’s disappearance, but as it stands She’s Not There is a decent read.
Prior to reading She’s Not There I had only read one of Joy Fielding’s books (See Jane Run) back in 1992 which I remembered enjoying hugely and although this novel did not set my mind racing or my heart pounding, I would happily read more of her work.
With thanks to Readers First who provided me with a free copy of this novel in exchange for my honest and unbiased opinion.