What kind of person writes a generic thriller with an awful twist? Well today it’s going to be me with a generic thriller novel plan! Enjoy!
November 2021. Out in the dismal northerly wastes *ahem* windswept landscapes of the United Kingdom, The Adams family (not to be mistaken for the Addams family) are going on a staycation.
In an incredibly overpriced holiday home (a house that has a History-with-a-capital-H) we have 7 close family members: Mr Adam Adams, his wife Mrs Adam Adams, his mother-in-law Ms Stepford, his two creepy twins darling children, his (unimportant and therefore unnamed) sister and his brother-in-law Rhett Herring. Naturally, because this is an old house with a History, they are all going to start dying, one by one… obviously starting with the unnamed sister!
But before we get to the bloody bit, we must have an obligatory row between Mr and Mrs Adams. They are discussing something that happened in the past (unspecified) and how they will overcome it (they won’t). Mrs Adams is drinking excessively for the sake of the plot because of this terrible thing that happened in their marriage. And Mr Adams is just trying to get away from the humdrum of his necessarily dull life (and a dreadful scandal unfolding at work that he is deeply embroiled in). His sister and Rhett Herring are being SUPER ROMANTIC- which is why it’s surprising when she (really I don’t have a name for her) winds up with her wrists slashed in the hot tub.
Granny Stepford is found over the body with a knife, but of course no one has any idea who did it, so they phone the police for an expert opinion. Unfortunately, all the phone lines are dead (thanks to the twins slashing all the phone lines). Everyone immediately overlooks the little rascals and starts questioning Rhett and his motives. After all, he is new to the family and how well do they really know this working-class wheeler dealer anyway?
As it gets dark and they devise a plan to drive to the nearest village, they discover that the cars have both broken down. Bummer. They shall just have to make it through the night in the old house with a history of dead bodies (and a graveyard in the back garden next to the hot tub). All Mrs Adams can do is try and figure out the mystery for herself through her alcohol-induced haze.
Naturally, she’s absolutely certain it was Rhett, because how could it be anyone else? Not her loving (but admittedly adulterous husband). And not her obviously devoted mother (who just happened to bring her professional kitchen knives for a weekend away). And not her darling children (who have more of an interest in taxidermy than should ever be healthy for ten year olds).
She goes to confront him and finds him skewered in the billiards room! Where he was just playing snooker with Mr Adams. The same Mr Adams who borrowed loads of money from him and then used it to cover embezzling a load of funds at work (so that he could live it up with a mistress who left him for a billionaire that could better fund her lifestyle). But Mrs Adams does not think of any of this, because she is an alcoholic with mental health problems and possibly a drug addiction (she’s also very, very stupid). Distraught, she seeks comfort in a bottle and wanders round the haunted house in the dark, scared of every creak and crank she hears.
Morning comes, as its wont to do, and she finally comes to her senses. She must confront Mr Adams… ABOUT THE AFFAIR!! She’s been brushing it under the carpet for too long! Never mind the dead people that are piling up and that her children are currently playing with some petrified rat’s bodies. She goes down into the cellar where her mother and husband are currently having a nice drink annnnd HER HUSBAND HAS BEEN FOUND POISONED! DUN DUN DUNNNNN!!!
She screams loud enough to wake the dead- though not really loud enough to wake the dead. Just loud enough to get the attention of some neighbours who in turn call the local police. PC plod finally turns up to bulk up the plot… and ends up fed to the lawnmower those little rapscallion twins were using. What a terrible accident.
Now Mrs Adams is more alone than ever. She can’t phone the police again (especially since they heavily implied she had the most to gain if all those people died, since she would then be the beneficiary in any will). She begins to doubt her own sanity and wonder if she actually did do all these terrible crimes. She just can’t remember dammit.
As she’s considering walking the 15 miles over to the police station and handing herself in, her mother appears with a knife and it dawns on her… It was granny all along!! (just go with it) Granny lifts up the knife to plunge it into her- and she conveniently remembers Mrs Adams self-defence lessons and backhands her into a concrete wall. Goodbye granny.
BUT WAIT! There’s more! With her dying breaths, she rasps out that she was not actually granny all this time. You see, the house they were in was MAGIC and allows the dead to come back for one night of the year… So Granny was just possessed all along. By a dead dude. Her abusive ex-husband to be precise. So really this was a message-book all along (please give me some kind of prize!)
Mrs Adams is so relieved that this awful ordeal is over. She puts her arms protectively around her lovely children and promises to always look after them. The twins smile back.
Annnd fade to black!
Ok- this seems like enough plot for now- I think it’s time for a diversion: insert digression on tea for about ten pages (no, this post is not sponsored by PG tips, I swear). Mr Vanderwall- the writer character and therefore the hero- is drinking all the refills Mrs Jones offers because it makes him feel important and British. It also reminds him of the Cambodian Civil war, partly as he associates all tea with Asia (in a way that is inspired by post-colonial guilt, not racism) and partly because he’d just read the Killing Fields in the hope it would make good small talk, but realised now that this was not a good fashionable choice of book, because it was popular 30 years ago. He really should have gone into an indie book store and asked “what’s popular now and will make me sound smart if I read it”- that would teach him to go into second-hand…
the orang-utan librarian 