Vikki Wakefield on How to Make a Monster

Nothing drives my imagination quite like opening up to the questions surrounding an intensely personal fear—and nothing scares me more than the thought of losing a child. When I started researching and writing After You Were Gone, I was drawn into the heart-breaking world of parents and families of missing children. To lose a child is devastating enough, but to endure a lifetime of not knowing what happened to them?

This is the terrible limbo of ambiguous loss. 

In death, there is finality; there are processes, rituals, and a gradual progression through the stages of grief. To suffer ambiguous loss is to enter a relentless cycle of unresolved grief and hopelessness, and it takes strength, support and unity to survive. Rightfully or wrongfully, a degree of judgement and suspicion comes along with being the parent of a missing child and, while tragedy is the thread that ties some families together, it can also become a wedge that pushes them apart.

After You Were Gone is a psychological suspense thriller centred around a missing child, an abduction case gone cold, and a fractured family trying to find their way back to each other. The story opens with a wedding celebration: six years after her daughter Sarah was abducted, Abbie is getting married to a man she loves, and who loves her. While her loss is as raw as the day Sarah went missing, she is determined to move forward. But, within hours, Abbie’s life changes abruptly for a second time and she is faced with a choice: destroy her new life by following the instructions of an anonymous caller offering closure or maintain her fragile peace and continue the cycle of not knowing. 

What would you do if the unthinkable happened? What would you give up? How far would you go to know the truth? 

These were the questions driving the development of Abbie’s character and those of the people surrounding her in grief. As a writer and a mother, I was compelled to strive toward knowing what happened; as a consequence, Abbie makes unhinged decisions. While some will find her to be an unlikeable protagonist, I see her as a manifestation of flawed but unwavering parental love. Her desperation to know what happened to her child is deeply human and relatable, and it takes incredible courage to wander alone into an abyss. For Abbie, there is no other choice but to let herself fall—it’s the only way to break the endless cycle of grief.

Modern literature is littered with unlikeable and unreliable narrators. Readers either love them, hate them, or love to hate them, but the real test of an unlikeable character is: do they force us to test our own morality, and can we relate? During my research, two refrains common to many suffering ambiguous loss rose above the rest. The first was that the pain never stops. Without closure, there is no clear way forward; the finality of death is withheld. The second was that the parents of missing children would do anything—anything—to know what happened, even if it meant accepting that their child was never coming home.

Here’s the thing: men have been writing unlikeable female characters for centuries. Why then did it feel dangerous to write a character like Abbie, who not only self-destructs but takes the people who love and support her down with her? In these moments of doubt, I remember this quote by Claire Messud, author of The Woman Upstairs:

“If you’re reading to find friends, you’re in deep trouble. We read to find life, in all its possibilities.”

After You Were Gone explores themes of responsibility and blame, guilt and atonement, and examines familial relationships under extreme circumstances. It’s a character-driven psychological thriller, as much about the connections between mothers, daughters and sisters as it is about the mystery of a missing child. Set over three timelines—Before, After and Now—the story follows Abbie’s life from pregnant teenager to grieving mother, and to the present, when she must become a monster to defeat a monster.

No one is innocent. Everyone will be judged. The clues to solving the mystery of Sarah’s disappearance are all there, shrouded in the past, but the only way for Abbie to find the answers she craves is to sacrifice her future, and herself. 

What would you do?

After You Were Gone by Vikki Wakefield, No Exit Press £8.99 Out Now 

What happens to a family when a child goes missing? In a busy street market, Abbie lets go of six-year-old Sarah's hand. She isn't a bad mother, just exhausted. But when she turns around, her daughter is gone. Six years on, Abbie is in love and getting married. But her fragile peace is constantly threatened: not knowing what happened to Sarah. Then she receives a phone call from a man claiming to know what happened, but if Abbie tells anyone she'll never find out the truth. How far would you go to find your child?