Finding Grace

“But it wasn’t our home anymore. Chloe’s train set wasn’t out to trip over, and her laughter wasn’t echoing. There wasn’t a wand to pick up in her wake, or a Disney film to negotiate. Tom opened the door to the drawing room. The brass doorknob was cold in his hand. The sofa cushions were too tidy, and I wasn’t propped in my usual seat with my feet on the ottoman […] watching Absolutely Fabulous.”

The detailed descriptions of Honor and Tom’s home after Honor’s and Chloe’s deaths introduce the novel’s thematic explorations of the Emotional Complexities of Death and Grief. Tom is thrust into an impossible new reality after his wife and child are killed in a terrorist attack. Although he intellectually knows Honor and Chloe are gone, his home is steeped with reminders of their presence. The scene has a haunted mood, which conveys Tom’s inability to reconcile with losing his family.

“It was a statement regarding the storage of donor eggs. Why was he getting a letter regarding a woman’s egg donation? Tom hadn’t given a moment’s thought to Dunkirk in years; there was just Henry, and besides, Dunkirk was a closed donor, meaning she had chosen to remain anonymous forever. That hadn’t been a deliberate choice on my part. Of all the profiles I’d combed through, Dunkirk was simply the one that seemed most like me.”

Receiving the envelope meant for Grace Stone changes Tom’s life. Tom can’t make sense of why he has been sent “a statement regarding the storage of donor eggs,” but his curiosity is immediately piqued. The letter is a narrative device used to compel Tom and Grace together: The two otherwise would not have met. This chance event spurs Tom toward change by ushering him out of his stasis and despair. The envelope will also create conflict later in the novel, as Tom hides it in the safe throughout his and Grace’s relationship, establishing the theme of the Moral Challenges of Owning the Truth.

“Tom pushed his chair back from the desk, stunned. I’d had the exact same reaction. Here it was, our obscure poem. He couldn’t get his head around it. As Grace spoke the words, Tom saw only me, pacing up and down the lawn at Annie’s the day we met. […] Now here Grace was, repeating verbatim the last loving thing I ever said to him before I was killed. If this wasn’t a sign, how could God be so cruel twice?”

Tom and Honor’s favorite Baudelaire poem is a symbol of connectivity, fate, and chance. The poem offers Tom and Honor a way to understanding and forgiveness when Honor is alive. Its reappearance in Grace’s donor interview feels like a sign to Honor—that Grace is the donor she is meant to work with. Tom sees it as a sign that he should contact Grace when he finds the CD. The poem brings the characters together in unlikely ways, infusing the novel with new layers of mystery.

“I just mean—I have Henry to think about. I haven’t got time to dwell on all that stuff. Or talk about it. I’m fine, Lauren, really. I have you. I have Annie. I have Oliver. I don’t want to poke the bear. Nor do I want to pull it apart. I want to keep things simple for Henry. I can’t risk any change. At least for a little bit. I’m fine.”

This scene of dialogue between Tom and Lauren conveys Tom’s avoidant character traits. He speaks in short, fragmented sentences, diction that affects a nervous tone. Although four years have passed since Honor’s and Chloe’s deaths, Tom remains reluctant to confront the truth of his pain. His unwillingness to address his sorrow only intensifies his longing, reiterating the novel’s theme of the emotional complexities of death and grief.

“‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. The way Grace said these three words landed in a different way than it had the countless times Tom had heard other people utter the same sentence over the years. For the first time that winter, he could see his breath as he spoke. Now was the time to tell her who she was to him. It was just the two of them beneath the sodium streetlights, just as he had wanted. Just as he’d imagined.”

Grace and Tom share an immediate connection because of their shared encounters with loss. Tom feels seen by Grace in this moment, making him want to tell her the truth. At the same time, the romantic mood convinces him to hide the truth to preserve the illusion of perfection between him and Grace. This moment marks a turning point for Tom; he has the opportunity and the awareness to come out with the truth but chooses to lie instead.

“I could see with piercing clarity how much Tom was falling for Grace. I’d seen him scramble for words and blush over red wine. I’d spent more time than anyone looking into those eyes. There was no greater cheerleader for this relationship, but Tom had given himself a false start. I knew too well how stories like this ended.”

Honor’s atypical first-person point of view provides unique insight into Tom’s psyche and character. Although she is not alive in the narrative present, Honor’s spirit has access to Tom’s life. She and Tom were intimate for years, making her the ideal translator of Tom’s subtle facial and verbal cues. She can read his interaction with Grace and interpret it accurately, which offers a perspective on his duplicitous behaviors.

“He hoped that now that Henry had surpassed Chloe in age, his constant ruminating and comparing his two children would diminish. Maybe Henry’s having outlived Chloe could be the true starting point of their new life, free of the past, even though Tom knew that was impossible.”

This reflective passage captures the novel’s theme of the emotional complexities of death and grief. Tom has tried to move on with his life for his son Henry’s sake. However, because his grief over his late daughter Chloe remains unresolved, he cannot love Henry in the pure way he hopes to. His life in the present remains tinged by the past because he has not confronted the events of his former life.

“He couldn’t believe that Grace was here, alone with him in his house, and that they were about to have a drink—this woman who had occupied all his thoughts for the past week. He’d wept over her, he’d vomited, he’d perspired, he’d masturbated, he’d laughed, he’d drawn out the blueprint for this moment so many times.”

The author’s linguistic usages in this passage enact Tom’s surprise and wonder at spending the evening with Grace. The comma splices—“he’d vomited, he’d perspired”—and anaphora—the repetition of “he’d”—capture Tom’s excited mental state. He has been dreaming about Grace for some time and is trying to reconcile his fantasies with the reality before him. This moment also affects a romantic, passionate mood and develops the theme of Finding Love After Loss.

“Tom looked pained, his eyes unblinking. The Tate was vast, but Tom suddenly felt like he was in the middle of a dark, collapsing tunnel. Even though he was technically lying, he wasn’t a liar. He had always been honest to a fault.”

Tom’s mental state during his and Grace’s visit to the Tate Museum conveys the moral challenges of owning the truth. Tom knows he is “technically lying,” but he is reluctant to admit what his dishonesty implies about his character. He feels like he is “in the middle of a dark, collapsing tunnel,” a metaphor that captures his fear and desperation. The diction “unblinking” and “vast” also underscores how lost he feels. He does not know what to do to guarantee the reality he wants.

“During the forty-five seconds he stood there, every eventuality of this conversation went through his head: Grace crying, Grace misunderstanding, Grace nodding, Grace touching his arm as he wept in front of her, the back of Grace’s head as she walked away from him.”

Tom’s internal monologue reveals the way his dishonesty is weighing on his psyche. Tom isn’t a traditional villain—he does not have categorically nefarious intentions. However, he is aware that the lies he has been telling Grace will have repercussions. The narrator’s use of comma splices and anaphora again affects a harried, anxious mood that mimics Tom’s internal state.

“Seeing Tom with that familiar smile, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the shared vernacular of grief that was bringing them closer. But grief doesn’t pardon you from telling the truth.”

Honor’s first-person narration offers perspective on Tom’s character, behavior, and choices. She is glad that Tom has found someone new to love and share his life with, but she disagrees with Tom’s dishonesty. The moral challenges of owning the truth compromise Tom and Grace’s relationship stability despite all he has suffered.

“They were unable, even for a moment, to pull their eyes from each other. Tom didn’t eat with his usual alacrity; the steak sat untouched on his plate. Watching her lips move as she spoke, he was in another world, his body aching to get closer. The more she said, the more he wanted to know.”

This descriptive passage enacts Tom’s passionate feelings for Grace. Details, including how Tom’s and Grace’s eyes look, the untouched food on their plates, the movement of Grace’s mouth, and Tom’s aching body, underscore the intensity of Tom and Grace’s connection. Tom may have come into Grace’s life in a deceptive way, but his feelings for her are true.

“Both acutely aware that after a certain age, no one ever gets into bed alone. There’s always someone else in the room in some form or another. Whether it’s holiday memories or drunken mistakes or ghosts, the past cannot be rewritten. But whether Tom opened his eyes or kept them closed, all he saw was Grace.”

Tom and Grace’s first sexual encounter captures the entanglement of the past and the present. He and Grace both have complex personal histories; they have both lost their loved ones and have struggled to move beyond their grief. Their sexual connection offers them a chance to escape their pasts, their “mistakes” and “ghosts,” even if it cannot resolve their trauma for them. The scene also marks a turning point for Tom, as he momentarily lets Honor go.

“Let me finish. The other day when I told you about having my eggs retrieved, after Pietro died, what I didn’t tell you is that I didn’t keep those eggs. I couldn’t handle the situation. Every part of myself felt so entwined with Pietro. […] I donated them to a charity in Italy a few days later. Anonymously. Thinking that would change everything.”

Grace’s decision to confront Tom about his lies of omission offers him an opportunity to confess. However, Tom is so caught in the moral challenges of owning the truth that he passes up this opportunity for honesty, too. Grace’s words are clear, calm, and direct, reiterating her authenticity as a character and desire for a pure love. The passage also foreshadows the role Tom’s secret will play in the future of his and Grace’s relationship.

“He wasn’t well-versed in dishonesty. He was learning on the job that once a lie erupts, you forever live in the psychological aftershock. He hadn’t foreseen his secret becoming inflamed and impinging on yet more subjects he couldn’t share with Grace.”

Tom’s internal monologue reiterates the novel’s theme of the moral challenges of owning the truth. When Tom first decided to lie to Grace, he did not imagine how his dishonesty would impact the future of their relationship. Tom feels caught between his impulse to come clean to Grace and his fear of losing Grace if she were to discover the truth. The imagery of the lie “erupt[ing]” and the reference to “aftershock” equate the effects of his lies with elemental catastrophes, highlighting the depth of the destruction.

“What did Grace see when she looked into Henry’s eyes? Was their love becoming more and more powerful, or was it there from the start, an unspoken, visceral connection? All of this could have been a coincidence, except that it wasn’t. Was Henry growing every day to be more like Grace or more like Tom?”

The questions Tom asks himself in this passage affect an interrogative, fearful, and worried narrative tone. Tom has known that his lies are impacting Grace and himself, but in this passage, he begins to realize how his lies are hurting his son, too. His mind races with all the possible truths, realities, and outcomes of his behavior, but he comes up with no answers. He is caught in a moral conundrum of his own making.

“Lauren’s eyes flashed watching Henry slide his pudgy little hand into Grace’s. I wished I could be there to reassure Lauren that she had nothing to worry about, to tell her that Tom adored her, that she was like a sister, like family, and nothing in their relationship was going to change.”

Honor’s point of view offers insight into all of the primary and secondary characters’ psyches. Honor is as intimate with her friends as she is with Tom. She can access Lauren’s thoughts and interpret her body language. She understands that Lauren is jealous of Grace and fearful of losing Tom. Honor’s insight into Lauren’s interiority foreshadows Lauren’s increasingly desperate behaviors and offers a clue to Lauren’s true feelings for Tom.

“You are the only person I have ever told about the shame I feel every second of my life because I let my daughter die. I failed at the one job a dad’s meant to do. Before I met you, I hadn’t even admitted that to myself let alone anybody else. And I will tell you something else as well.”

Tom uses clear, direct language to attempt to convince Grace of the authenticity of his love. He wants Grace to believe that he is with her for her, and not because she resembles Honor. His tone is open and honest, mirroring Grace’s dialogue which makes Grace receptive to him. His professions also affect a romantic atmosphere, fueling the novel’s central love story.

“When would Grace nonchalantly ask Tom to open the safe so she could put her passport inside along with his and Henry’s? Now that Tom was discovering these hidden snares, would he finally get rid of the CD and the letter instead of holding on to them? Along with the rest of my things, it seemed these belongings had assumed a divine significance beyond their mortal hardware. But whether he was willing to admit it or not, in keeping them, he’d loaded his own gun.”

Tom’s ongoing worries about Grace’s donation interview CD reveal his guilty conscience. Tom is terrified that Grace will find the CD, because he knows it is evidence of his betrayal. He is catastrophizing in this passage because he is terrified of being found out. The passage also uses a metaphor that compares the CD to a “loaded gun.” According to literary legend Anton Chekov’s narrative rule, a loaded gun must always go off; this passage thus foreshadows the scene where Lauren plays the CD at the engagement party.

“After I died, Tom had set himself one task: to be there for his son, to protect his child from all harm. But he hadn’t anticipated the ripple effect of attachment. Henry had fallen in love with Grace as much as he had. What version of events would he tell Henry if Grace were to uncover the secret and run?”

Tom’s relationship with Grace helps him believe in the possibility of finding love after loss. Although the relationship is essential to Tom’s healing, what Tom fails to realize until this moment is that Grace is just as essential to Henry’s healing and well-being, too. Henry also offers Grace a new version of love and redemption. Tom’s actions have thus jeopardized all of the characters’ hope.

“If he could, Tom would spend every second with his hands on her, his lips on her, picking up the raspberry muffin she liked from the local cafe, revising with her, easing her, cooking her pasta carbonara, and warming up the cold skin of her legs as they wrapped tightly around him. Grace. His fiancée, his future wife. The woman I picked out of a catalog. The closest thing Henry would ever have to a mother.”

The author uses descriptive language and vivid imagery to enact Tom’s passionate feelings for Grace. Tom is so attached to Grace that he can’t imagine a day without her. The images of him “spending every second” touching or watching Grace illustrate his attachment to her. The images of “the raspberry muffin,” “the local cafe,” and “pasta carbonara” also create a warm, domestic mood, which enacts the comfort Tom derives from their relationship.

“Tom pulled Grace into the drawing room. He couldn’t see straight, his mind clouded by a map of potential land mines. My engagement ring. Grace’s hand. The CD. The worst mistake he’d ever made was not snapping it in two the moment he’d found Grace.”

The use of fragmented syntax, metaphor, and figurative language in this passage enacts Tom’s frazzled state of mind. Tom is so worried that he can’t “see straight” and his mind is “clouded.” This language affects notions of blurriness and dizziness, which capture Tom’s distress. The reference to “land mines” evokes notions of danger, disaster, and death. The two-word fragmented sentences that follow distill Tom’s anxiety to a series of objects. He is so overwhelmed that he cannot even think in complete sentences.

“‘She’s just standing there, waiting for me, wondering why I didn’t save her. Wondering why I’m not there.’ Tom wept without regard, the tears coming thick and fast down his face. ‘How dare I grieve? I got to go on with Henry. They didn’t,’ Tom said, finally unsubscribing from his lethal English stoicism.”

Tom’s newfound ability to open up to Colette in this scene marks a turning point in his character arc. Throughout the majority of the novel, Tom actively avoids confronting his grief, guilt, and shame over Honor’s and Chloe’s deaths. In this scene, he has descended into the basement with Colette and begun to excavate the literal and figurative detritus of his past.