The Silent Companions Quotes

“Death, once conceived, was rapacious. It took all with it.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Imprisonment was never the real punishment: it was the people you were stuck with.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“She had an urge to confess everything: tell him about the splinters on Rupert’s neck; the nursery; the garret; the handprint; the eyes. But to speak of such things made them a farce. You could not explain fear; you could only feel it, roaring through the silence and striking your heart still.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“She slumped down by the fireplace and sat with her legs stretched out, next to Jolyon. Or what passed for Jolyon: the cruel, blue-grey parody of him. She did not want to store this image of her boy: waxy and puffed; features imprinted with horror; vicious cuts to the dear skin. But she knew it would encroach, stealthily, and overwrite all the happier times. Death, once conceived, was rapacious. It took all with it.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Madness, as we call it, manifests itself in many ways. People do not always wail and shriek as you say your mother did. But it does seem to run in families, I have observed, particularly through the female line. Hysteria – womb to womb. Diseased blood will out. There is no hiding from it, I am afraid.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“She had the strangest feeling that it was not her stomach at all – not any more. It was only a shell. She was a shell, and another body, a foreign body, was growing inside.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Imprisonment was never the real punishment: it was the people you were stuck with. Lunatics were the worst; jabbering, yammering, moaning.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Perhaps the evil is seeking something.’ Sarah’s breath came hot against her skin. ‘Seeking . . . a more permanent host.’ A queasy silence fell as they considered the implications of that. Splinters. On Rupert, on the baby. Something trying to get in.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“She drifted back to the gallery and looked down on the Great Hall. The grey and black flags danced before her eyes. Dear God, she couldn’t do it. They might as well ask her to go to Oxford and sit an exam. She could not be an ordinary mother to an ordinary baby. All those toys, the memorabilia of childhood. Perhaps it was different if you grew up happy, with memories of your father dandling you on his knee and your mother kissing your tears away. But for Elsie there was nothing but fear. Fear for the baby. Fear of the baby. Jolyon had turned out all right, she reminded herself. But it was easier with Jolyon being a boy. What if Rupert’s baby was born a girl? She could not love a daughter that looked like her. She could not bear to glance upon a mirror of her past without being sick.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“How steadily he watched her. He was close enough for her to smell him: carbolic soap, cloves. Memory flickered like a tinderbox. She refused to let the flint spark.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“In his eyes she saw the gleam of interest. This disturbed her more than the attendant’s scowl.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“In the shade she looked like a lily; her pale skin and the gossamer veins beside her eyes.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Did evil have wants and needs? Surely not, surely that would make it too human. No longer a tug from the depths of the abyss, but something sentient that could surface in anyone. In her.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“The baby. It was missing. Amputated. She could not feel its motions or the bubbles inside. I am no longer two. I am alone.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Hetta is not like me. That is not her fault, of course, but every difference I find is a little chip in the dream I had of my daughter. The close confidante, who was to be the repository of all my secrets, can confide none of her own. She isn’t at ease with me. I am not to her what I am to the boys. Perhaps it is part of my punishment. A check to my hubris. With herbs and ancient words I can create a daughter, but I cannot make her love me.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“They didn’t get newspapers in the day room – at least, not when she had been allowed in there – but rumours had a way of seeping under doors and through cracks in the walls. Journalists’ lies made it into the asylum long before she did. Ever since she awoke in this place, she had been given a new name: murderess. Other patients, attendants, even the nurses when they thought no one could hear: they twisted their mouths and bared their teeth as they said it, ravenous. Murderess. As if they wanted to frighten her. Her. It wasn’t the injustice she loathed but the noise, its syllables hissing in her ears like – No.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Madness, as we call it, manifests itself in many ways. People do not always wail and shriek as you say your mother did. But it does seem to run in families, I have observed, particularly through the female line. Hysteria - womb to womb. Diseased blood will out. There is no hiding from it, I am afraid.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“The past had taken enough from her already – she would not let it have her adult years too.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Would you happen to know if that is buried here also, Mr Underwood?’ ‘Which skeleton would that be?’ She blinked. ‘I do not understand you.’ ‘There have been . . . a few,’ he admitted. ‘But it is a very old house, Mrs Bainbridge. There is no cause to be alarmed.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Outside the sky was iron grey, the monotony broken only by crows. Mile after mile and the scenery did not change. Stubble fields, skeletal trees. They are burying me, she realised. They are burying me along with Rupert.

It wasn't meant to be like this. They should have been back in London by now; the house thrown open, spilling over with wine and candles. This season vivid dyes were in fashion. The salons would be awash with azuline, mauve, magenta and Paris green. She should be there at the centre of it: invited to every diamond-spangled party; hanging on the arm of the host in his striped waistcoat; the first lady escorted into the dining room. The new bride always went first.

But not a widow. A widow shied from the light and entombed herself with grief. She became a mermaid drowning in black crêpe, like the Queen. Elsie sighed and stared into the hollow reflection of her eyes. She must be a terrible wife, for she did not long for seclusion. Sitting in silence musing on Rupert's virtues wouldn't help her grief. Only distraction could do that. She wanted to attend the theatre, to ride up and down on the rattling omnibuses. She would rather be anywhere than alone in these bleak fields.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“I will admit that I am still weak, Jo, but I don’t require more than rest and a glass of wine a day.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“And yet the horses were uneasy, their ears flat, the whites of their eyes rolling. Beatrice the cow was keeping well back in her stable, lipping another clump of hay from her net. The animals knew. Animals always sensed these things.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“She had seen things beyond the comprehension of his small, scientific brain. Things he would deny were possible until they stole up beside him and pressed their worn, splintered hands against his.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“It was a foolish superstition: covering mirrors to stop the dead from becoming trapped.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“The fog pressed against her cheek, damp as a dog’s breath, carrying the scent of water and a deep, earthy tang.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Why did chemists manufacture medicines that awoke people, when reality was dismal and hopeless? Better the laudanum dreams, the tranquillisers. For now she felt like a woman in bed on a baking summer’s night – desperate to sleep but turning over and over, unable to rest.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“Images were blurring, vanishing. Or rather, she was vanishing – withdrawing from the carnage before her to hide somewhere, deep inside.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“added my voice. They did not heed it. Who was I to halt them, now? The disgraced mistress, the wife Josiah treated like refuse in a street kennel.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“We lost Mary to a sweating sickness. People told me it was a kind, swift death, but they did not see it. If my sister died in kindness, I dare not imagine cruelty.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions

“But to speak of such things made them a farce. You could not explain fear; you could only feel it, roaring through the silence and striking your heart still.”
― Laura Purcell, The Silent Companions