We Live Here Now

Like his wife, Emily, Freddie is a flawed and complex character. From the outset, his weakness and dishonesty are illustrated as he conceals his gambling debts from his wife. However, Freddie’s reflection, “I am not a good person” (8), also demonstrates remorse, signaling that he possesses some form of moral compass. Several factors affect Freddie’s increasingly amoral character arc, leaving readers to decide how far Larkin Lodge is responsible for influencing his actions. The observation that his “mood toward Emily” lifts when he leaves the Lodge for London conveys the house’s malign impact on his thoughts and feelings (68). At the same time, Freddie’s description of his mounting debts as a “noose […] slowly tightening around my neck” conveys a further pressure that drives his actions (205).

Freddie embodies the theme of the dark undercurrents of intimate relationships. Rather than confronting his problems directly, he externalizes blame, casting Emily as an obstacle rather than a partner. As the narrative progresses, he increasingly perceives his wife’s suffering as a potential solution to his debts. Asserting, “Maybe if she went mad, that would save me” (140), he disparages her mental health to others and plans to stage her death by suicide to claim her life insurance payout. However, Freddie’s building resentment of Emily derails this plan when, in a violent outburst, he impulsively stabs his wife. The moment emerges from a mixture of jealousy, paranoia, and wounded pride when he discovers her infidelity with her boss and the existence of the blackmail money. Freddie’s actions continue the destructive legacy created by Larkin Lodge’s previous male residents, Christopher Hopper and Joe Carter, who similarly responded to domestic conflict with lethal violence.

After stabbing Emily, Freddie convinces himself that the murder was a hallucination. This delusion highlights a key aspect of his character: his refusal to take responsibility for his actions and acknowledge his darker side. Freddie’s eventual imprisonment in the primary suite alongside Emily reveals the ultimate consequence of his choices. His darker half remains bickering with Emily’s trapped self, while his sanitized double enjoys a new life.

Emily marvels at Sally’s relaxed attitude toward her husband Joe’s sexual relationships with other women. On first meeting Sally, Emily wishes she could be more like the older woman, enviously noting, “Everything about her is easy […] Relaxed and happy” (96). However, later in the narrative, Emily learns that in the early days of her relationship with Joe, Sally was consumed by jealousy and insecurity over his desire for sexual freedom. These contradictory portrayals of the same character hint at the dark secret at the heart of the novel: Sally was killed by Joe and reincarnated with her jealous streak eliminated.

Sally’s character highlights the novel’s exploration of the dark undercurrent of intimate relationships. Pinborough undercuts her marital bliss in the present by revealing that her husband murdered her to achieve it. Sally also embodies the duality of human nature as her “best” self lives contentedly with Joe, free from jealousy, while her vengeful, imprisoned self haunts Larkin Lodge. The narrative emphasizes that while the sanitized version of Sally is superficially happy, she is incomplete and oblivious to her true circumstances. Her adulation of the husband who killed her is reminiscent of the robotic, compliant female characters in Ira Levin’s dystopian novel, The Stepford Wives. The migraines Sally experiences when she visits Larkin Lodge hint at the unnatural state of her fractured identity. As the former female resident of the Lodge, Sally serves as a parallel figure to Emily, foreshadowing the protagonist’s fate.

Once Sally’s trapped self is freed, Emily describes her as “still Sally with added ingredients. An edge. An anger” (276). The author emphasizes that while this version of Sally is less likable, she is fully human. Sally goes on to reverse her victimhood by killing Joe, passing his death off as a tragic accident.

Emily describes Sally’s husband, Joe, as possessing “a sexual charisma that gives him the air of some movie star” (30). A hedonistic artist, Joe initially represents temptation to the protagonist as she becomes increasingly dissatisfied with Freddie. Joe’s desire to paint Emily and his undisguised attraction to her make her feel like “[a] living, breathing woman who is raw and real and perfect for her flaws rather than despite them” (173). In his company, she no longer feels irreparably damaged. Joe’s allure is intensified by his ability to maintain his wife’s unconditional devotion despite openly sleeping with other women.

Emily’s discovery that Joe killed Sally prompts her realization that he is the embodiment of destructive male entitlement. Joe is not a calculated killer—he lashes out at Sally in a moment of heightened frustration. However, his decision to suffocate her when she is injured is driven by the urge to avoid a lifetime of unwanted caretaking. Joe’s insistence on sexual freedom emerges as a narcissistic desire that directly clashes with Sally’s need for monogamy. His killing of Sally when she does not conform to the lifestyle he craves links him to the earlier resident of Larkin Lodge, Christopher Hopper, reinforcing the cyclical nature of domestic violence within the novel.

Joe’s actions also foreshadow Freddie’s murder of Emily. After killing Sally, Joe relies on denial as a coping mechanism, convincing himself that the incident was a hallucinatory “acid trip.” This inability to face his own culpability is accompanied by a lack of remorse as Sally’s death and reincarnation result in him gaining “the perfect wife” (126). However, Larkin Lodge acts as a repository for his crime, recording and preserving his actions. Ultimately, Sally’s violent revenge on her husband demonstrates that he cannot escape the legacy of the past.