The Stranger Diaries: A Mystery

By Elly Griffiths

International Bestseller

Winner of the Edgar Award for Best Novel

"This lively whodunit keeps you guessing until the end." —People

Death lies between the lines when the events of a dark story start coming true in this haunting modern Gothic mystery, perfect for fans of Magpie Murders and The Lake House.

Clare Cassidy is no stranger to murder. A high school teacher specializing in the Gothic writer R. M. Holland, she even teaches a course on him. But when one of Clare’s colleagues is found dead, with a line from Holland’s iconic story “The Stranger” left by her body, Clare is horrified to see her life collide with her favorite literature.

The police suspect the killer is someone Clare knows. Unsure whom to trust, she turns to her diary, the only outlet for her suspicions and fears. Then one day she notices something odd. Writing that isn't hers, left on the page of an old diary:

Hallo Clare. You don’t know me.

Clare becomes more certain than ever: “The Stranger” has come to terrifying life. But can the ending be rewritten in time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Mar 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781328576088

Elly Griffiths

Elly Griffiths is the USA Today bestselling author of the Ruth Galloway and Brighton mystery series, as well as the standalone novels The Stranger Diaries, winner of the Edgar Award for Best Novel; The Postscript Murders; and Bleeding Heart Yard. She is the recipient of the CWA Dagger in the Library Award and the Mary Higgins Clark Award. She lives in Brighton, England.

Book preview

title page

Contents

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Title Page

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Clare

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Harbinder

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Georgia

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Clare

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Harbinder

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Georgia

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Clare

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Harbinder

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Georgia

Chapter 43

Harbinder

Chapter 44

Georgia

Chapter 45

Harbinder

Chapter 46

Harbinder and Clare

Chapter 47

Epilogue

The Stranger, by R.M. Holland

Discussion Guide

Abandoned Estates, Empty Hotels, and Isolated Schools: Exploring the Civic Landscapes of Gothic Fiction Through the Ages

Read More from Elly Griffiths

About the Author

Connect on Social Media

First Mariner Books edition 2019

Copyright © 2018 by Elly Griffiths

Reading Group Guide copyright © 2019 by HarperCollins Publishers

Abandoned Estates, Empty Hotels, and Isolated Schools copyright © 2019 by Elly Griffiths, reprinted with the permission of Crime Reads

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.

marinerbooks.com

First published in Great Britain in 2018 by Quercus

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Griffiths, Elly, author.

Title: The stranger diaries / Elly Griffiths.

Description: First U.S. edition. | Boston ; New York : Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2019. Identifiers: LCCN 2018035768| ISBN 9781328577856 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781328576088 (ebook)

Subjects: | BISAC: FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Women Sleuths. | FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Police Procedural. | FICTION / Romance / Gothic. | GSAFD: Mystery fiction. | Gothic fiction.

Classification: LCC PR6107.R534 S77 2019 | DDC 823/.92—dc23LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018035768

Cover design by Martha Kennedy

Cover photograph © Nikki Smith/Arcangel Images

Author photograph © Sara Reeve

v3.0821

For Alex and Juliet.

And for Gus, my companion animal.

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Part the First

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Clare

Chapter 1

‘If you’ll permit me,’ said the Stranger, ‘I’d like to tell you a story. After all, it’s a long journey and, by the look of those skies, we’re not going to be leaving this carriage for some time. So, why not pass the hours with some story-telling? The perfect thing for a late October evening.

‘Are you quite comfortable there? Don’t worry about Herbert. He won’t hurt you. It’s just this weather that makes him nervous. Now, where was I? What about some brandy to keep the chill out? You don’t mind a hip flask, do you?

‘Well, this is a story that actually happened. Those are the best kind, don’t you think? Better still, it happened to me when I was a young man. About your age.

‘I was a student at Cambridge. Studying Divinity, of course. There’s no other subject, in my opinion, except possibly English Literature. We are such stuff as dreams are made on. I’d been there for almost a term. I was a shy boy from the country and I suppose I was lonely. I wasn’t one of the swells, those young men in white bow ties who sauntered across the court as if they had letters patent from God. I kept myself to myself, went to lectures, wrote my essays and started up a friendship with another scholarship boy in my year, a timid soul called Gudgeon, of all things. I wrote home to my mother every week. I went to chapel. Yes, I believed in those days. I was even rather pious—pi, we used to say. That was why I was surprised to be invited to join the Hell Club. Surprised and pleased. I’d heard about it, of course. Stories of midnight orgies, of bedders coming in to clean rooms and fainting dead away at what they discovered there, of arcane chants from the Book of the Dead, of buried bones and gaping graves. But there were other stories too. Many successful men had their start at the Hell Club: politicians—even a cabinet member or two—writers, lawyers, scientists, business tycoons. You always knew them because of the badge, a discreet skull worn on the left lapel. Yes, like this one here.

‘So I was happy to be invited to the initiation ceremony. It was held on October 31st. Halloween, of course. All Hallows’ Eve. Yes, of course. It’s Halloween today. If one believed in coincidence one might think that was slightly sinister.

‘To return to my story. The ceremony was simple and took place at midnight. Naturally. The three initiates were required to go to a ruined house just outside the college grounds. In turn, we would be blindfolded and given a candle. We had to walk to the house, climb the stairs and light our candle in the window on the first floor landing. Then we had to shout, as loudly as we could, Hell is empty! After all three had completed the task, we could take off our blindfolds and re-join our fellows. Feasting and revelry would follow. Gudgeon . . . did I tell you that poor Gudgeon was one of the three? Gudgeon was worried because, without his glasses, he was almost blind. But, as I told him, we were all blindfolded anyway. A man may see how the world goes with no eyes.’

‘So,’ I say, ‘what’s happening here?’

‘Something bad,’ says Peter.

‘You’re quite right,’ I say, counting to ten silently. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘Well,’ says Una, ‘the setting, for one thing. Midnight on Halloween.’

‘That’s a bit of a cliché,’ says Ted.

‘It’s a cliché because it works,’ says Una. ‘It’s really spooky, with the weather and everything. What’s the betting they get snowed in on the train?’

‘That’s a rip-off of Murder on the Orient Express,’ says Peter.

‘The Stranger pre-dates Agatha Christie,’ I say. ‘What else tells you what sort of story this is?’

‘The narrator is so creepy,’ says Sharon, ‘all that have a drink from my hip flask and don’t mind Herbert. Who is Herbert anyway?’

‘A good question,’ I say. ‘What does everyone think?’

‘A deaf mute.’

‘His servant.’

‘His son. Has to be restrained because he’s a dangerous lunatic.’

‘His dog.’

Laughter.

‘Actually,’ I say, ‘Ted is right, Herbert is a dog. The companion animal is an important trope in the ghost story genre because an animal can sense things that are beyond human comprehension. What can be scarier than a dog staring at something that isn’t there? Cats are famously spooky, of course. Think of Edgar Allan Poe. And animals were often thought to be witches’ familiars, helping them perform black magic. But Animal characters can be useful for another reason. Can anyone guess what it is?’

No one can. It’s mid-afternoon, nearly break time, and they are thinking of coffee and biscuits rather than fictional archetypes. I look out of the window. The trees by the graveyard are dark even though it’s only four o’clock. I should have saved the short story for the twilight session really, but it’s so difficult to cover everything on a short course. Time to wrap things up.

‘Animals are expendable,’ I say. ‘Authors often kill them to create tension. It’s not as significant as killing a human but it can be surprisingly upsetting.’

The members of the creative writing group go clattering down the stairs in search of caffeine but I stay in the classroom for a bit. It’s very strange being in this part of the school. Only adult education classes get taught here; the rooms are too small and too odd for lessons. This one has a fireplace and a rather disturbing oil painting of a child holding what looks like a dead ferret. I can just imagine the Year 7s trying to disappear up the fireplace like twenty-first-century chimney sweeps. Most school life at Talgarth High happens in the New Building, a 1970s monstrosity of plate glass and coloured bricks. This building, the Old Building, which was once called Holland House, is really just an annex. It has the dining hall, the kitchens and the chapel, as well as the head teacher’s office. The first floor has rooms which are sometimes used for music practice or drama. The old library is there too, now only frequented by teachers because the students have a modern version in the New Building, with computers and armchairs and paperbacks in carousels. The top floor, which is out-of-bounds to students, is where R.M. Holland’s study is, preserved just as he left it. The creative writing students are always excited to learn that the author of The Stranger actually lived in this house. In fact, he hardly ever left it. He was a recluse, the old-fashioned sort with a housekeeper and a full staff. I’m not sure I would leave the house myself if I had someone to cook and clean for me, to iron the Times and place it on a tray with my morning infusion. But I have a daughter, so I would have to rouse myself eventually. Georgie would probably never get out of bed without me to shout the time up the stairs, a problem R.M. Holland certainly never had, although he may, in fact, have had a daughter. Opinion is divided on this point.

It’s October half-term and, with no pupils around, and spending all my time in the Old Building, it’s easy to imagine that I’m teaching at a university, somewhere ancient and hallowed. There are parts of Holland House that look almost like an Oxford college, if you ignore the New Building and the smell of the gymnasium. I like having this time to myself. Georgie is with Simon and Herbert is in kennels. There’s nothing for me to worry about and, when I get home, there’s nothing to stop me writing all night. I’m working on a biography of R.M. Holland. He’s always interested me, ever since I read The Stranger in a ghost story anthology as a teenager. I didn’t know about his connection to the school when I first applied here. It wasn’t mentioned in the advertisement and the interview was in the New Building. When I found out, it seemed like a sign. I would teach English by day and, in the evenings, inspired by my surroundings, I would write about Holland; about his strange, reclusive life, the mysterious death of his wife, his missing daughter. I made a good start; I was even interviewed for a news item on local TV, walking awkwardly through the Old Building and talking about its previous occupant. But, recently—I don’t know why—the words have dried up. Write every day, that’s what I tell my students. Don’t wait for inspiration, that might not come until the end. The muse always finds you working. Look into your heart and write. But, like most teachers, I’m not brilliant at taking my own advice. I write in my diary every day, but that doesn’t count because no one else is ever going to read it.

I suppose I should go downstairs and get a coffee while I still can. As I get up I look out of the window. It’s getting dark and the trees are blowing in a sudden squall of wind. Leaves gust across the car park and, following their progress, I see what I should have noticed earlier: a strange car with two people sitting inside it. There’s nothing particularly odd about this. This is a school, after all, despite it being half-term. Visitors are not entirely unexpected. They could even be staff members, coming in to prepare their classrooms and complete their planning for next week. But there’s something about the car, and the people inside it, that makes me feel uneasy. It’s an unremarkable grey vehicle—I’m useless at cars but Simon would know the make—something solid and workmanlike, the sort of thing a mini-cab driver would use. But why are its occupants just sitting there? I can’t see their faces but they are both dressed in dark clothes and look, like the car itself, somehow both prosaic and menacing.

It’s almost as if I am expecting a summons of some kind, so I’m not really surprised when my phone buzzes. I see it’s Rick Lewis, my head of department.

‘Clare,’ he says, ‘I’ve got some terrible news.’

Clare’s Diary

Monday 23rd October 2017

Ella is dead. I didn’t believe it when Rick told me. And, as the words began to sink in, I thought: a car crash, an accident, even an overdose of some kind. But when Rick said ‘murdered’, it was as if he was talking a different language.

‘Murdered?’ I repeated the word stupidly.

‘The police said that someone broke into her house last night,’ said Rick. ‘They turned up on my doorstep this morning. Daisy thought I was about to be arrested.’

I still couldn’t put the pieces together. Ella. My friend. My colleague. My ally in the English department. Murdered. Rick said that Tony already knew. He was going to write to all the parents tonight.

‘It’ll be in the papers,’ said Rick. ‘Thank God it’s half-term.’

I’d thought the same thing. Thank God it’s half-term, thank God Georgie’s with Simon. But then I felt guilty. Rick must have realised that he’d got the tone wrong because he said, ‘I’m sorry, Clare’, as if he meant it.

He’s sorry. Jesus.

And then I had to go back to my class and teach them about ghost stories. It wasn’t one of my best teaching sessions. But The Stranger always does its bit, especially as it was dark by the time I’d finished. Una actually screamed at the end. I set them a writing task for the last hour: ‘write about receiving bad news’. I looked at their bent heads as they scribbled their masterpieces (‘The telegram arrived at half-past two . . .’) and thought: if only they knew.

As soon as I got home, I rang Debra. She’d been out with the family and hadn’t heard. She cried, said she didn’t believe it, etc., etc. To think that the three of us had only been together on Friday night. Rick said that Ella was killed some time on Sunday. I remember I’d texted her about the Strictly results and hadn’t had an answer. Was she already dead by then?

It wasn’t so bad when I was teaching or talking to Debra, but now I’m alone, I feel such a sense of . . . well, dread . . . that I’m almost rigid with fear. I’m sitting here with my diary on the bed and I don’t want to turn the light off. Where is Ella? Have they taken her body away? Have her parents had to identify her? Rick didn’t give me any of these details and, right now, they seem incredibly important.

I just can’t believe that I’ll never see her again.

Chapter 2

I’m at school early. I didn’t really sleep. Horrible dreams, not actually about Ella, but searching for Georgie in war-ravaged cities, Herbert going missing, my dead grandfather calling from a room just out of sight. Herbert was at Doggy Day Care for the night—which was probably part of the reason for the anxiety dreams—but I didn’t need him to wake me up demanding food, walkies and dancing girls. I was up at six and at Talgarth by eight. There were already a few people here, drinking coffee in the dining hall and attempting to start conversations. They always run a few courses here at half-term and I like to try to identify the participants: women with unusual jewellery tend to be doing tapestry or pottery, men with sandals and long fingernails are usually making stringed musical instruments. My students are always the hardest to spot. That’s one of the nice things about teaching creative writing—you get retired teachers and solicitors, women who have brought up their families and now fancy doing something for themselves, twenty-somethings convinced that they are the next J.K. Rowling. My favourites are often the people who have done all the other courses and just take mine because it’s next on the list after Candle Making. Those students always surprise you—and themselves.

I get a black coffee from the machine and take it to the very end of one of the tables. It feels strange to be eating and drinking, going through the usual routine, thinking about the day’s teaching. I still can’t get used to the thought that I’m living in a world without Ella. Although I’d probably describe Jen and Cathy from university as my best friends, there’s no doubt that I saw Ella more than I saw either of them—I saw her every day during term time. We shared our frustrations about Rick and Tony, the students, our occasional triumphs, juicy gossip about the pastoral leader and one of the lab technicians. Even now, ridiculously, I want to text her. ‘You’ll never believe what’s happened.’

‘Can I sit here?’

It’s Ted, from my creative writing class.

‘Of course.’ I arrange my face into a welcoming shape.

Ted’s a good example of creative writing students being hard to classify. He’s shaven-headed and tattooed and looks more like a potential ‘Woodcarving: An Introduction’ or even an ‘Exploring Japanese Pottery’. But he had a few good insights yesterday and, thank God, doesn’t seem to want to talk about his work in progress.

‘I enjoyed yesterday,’ he says, unwrapping a packet of biscuits, the sort they have in hotel bedrooms.

‘Good,’ I say.

‘That ghost story. I kept thinking about it all night.’

‘It’s quite effective, isn’t it? R.M. Holland wasn’t the greatest writer but he certainly knew how to scare people.’

‘And is it true that he actually lived here? In this house?’

‘Yes. He lived here until 1902. The bedrooms were on the floor where we were yesterday. His study is in the attic.’

‘This is a school now, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, a secondary school, Talgarth High. When Holland died, the building became a boarding school, then a grammar. It went comprehensive in the 1970s.’

‘And this is where you teach?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you tell your students that story? The Stranger?’

‘No. Holland isn’t on the curriculum. It’s still all Of Mice and Men and Remains of the Day. I used to run a creative writing group for the GCSE students and sometimes I read them The Stranger.’

‘Must have given them nightmares.’

‘No, they loved it. Teenagers always love ghost stories.’

‘I do too.’ He grins at me, showing two gold teeth. ‘There’s a funny feeling about this place. I bet it’s haunted.’

‘There are a few stories. A woman was meant to have fallen from the top floor. Some people say it was Holland’s wife. Or his daughter. I’ve had students say that they’ve seen a woman in a white nightdress floating down the stairs. Or sometimes you can see a falling figure out of the corner of your eye. Apparently the bloodstain is still visible; it’s outside the head teacher’s study.’

‘Very appropriate.’

‘Oh, he’s the young and trendy type. Not Dickensian at all.’

‘That’s a shame.’

Ted dunks his biscuit but it’s the wrong sort and half of it falls into his tea. ‘What’s the topic this morning?’ he says. ‘I left my timetable in the room yesterday.’

‘Creating memorable characters,’ I say. ‘Time and place in the afternoon. Then home. Excuse me, I’d better go and prepare.’

I go up to the classroom to make sure everything is in place for the day but, when I get there, I just sit at the desk with my head in my hands. How the hell am I going to get through this day?

I first met Ella when we interviewed for jobs at Talgarth High five years ago. We were greeted by Rick, who was trying to pretend that a third of the English department hadn’t resigned at the end of the Easter term, leaving him with a few short months to find two experienced English teachers. A little while ago I looked in my diary to find my first impressions of Rick but they were disappointingly banal. Tall, thin, rumpled-looking. Rick is the sort of person whose charms—such as they are—dawn on you gradually.

‘It’s a really vibrant department,’ he told us as he gave us the tour. ‘And the school’s great, very diverse, lots of energy.’

By then we had worked out that there were two posts available and that we weren’t in competition. We exchanged a look. We both knew what ‘vibrant’ meant. The school was on the edge of anarchy. It had just received a ‘Requires Improvement’ rating from its latest inspection. The old head, Megan Williams, was still clinging on, but she was ousted two years later by Tony Sweetman, who had been helicoptered in from another school with only ten years’ teaching experience. The school is rated Good now.

Afterwards Ella and I compared notes in the staffroom, a cheerless place in the New Building with passive-aggressive Post-its on the appliances—‘Please help empty the dishwasher. It can’t always be my turn!!’ We’d been left alone with coffee and a plate of biscuits while ‘the panel’ made their decision. We both knew that we’d be offered jobs. The prospect was made a lot less bleak by the woman sitting opposite me: long blonde hair, bony nose, not beautiful but extremely attractive. I learned later that Ella, a Jane Austen enthusiast, identified with Elizabeth Bennet. But, to me, she was always Emma.

‘Why do you want to come here?’ Ella had asked, stirring her tea with a pen.

‘I’ve just got divorced,’ I said. ‘I want to move out of London. I’ve got a ten-year-old daughter. I thought it might be nice for her to live in the countryside. And be near the sea.’

The school was in West Sussex. Shoreham-by-Sea was only fifteen minutes away, Chichester half an hour on a good day. Both Rick and Tony had made a lot of this. I was trying to focus on the drive through the lush countryside and not the art rooms with the broken windows and the cheerless quad where the plants had all been killed by the salt winds.

‘I’m escaping too,’ Ella had said. ‘I was teaching in Wales but I had an affair with my head of department. Not a good idea.’

I remember being touched, and slightly shocked, that she had confided in me so early in our acquaintance.

‘I can’t imagine having an affair with that Rick,’ I said. ‘He looks like a scarecrow.’

‘If I only had a brain,’ Ella sang in a surprisingly good imitation of the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz.

But she had a brain, and a good one, which is why she should have known about Rick. She should have listened to me.

Too late for that now.

In the morning, I talk to the students about The Stranger.

‘You often get archetypal characters in ghost stories,’ I say. ‘The innocent young man, the helper, the hinderer, the loathly lady.’

‘I know a few of those,’ says Ted with a slightly uncouth guffaw.

‘I don’t know what that means,’ says Una. ‘What is a loathly lady?’ I recognise her as the type who makes heavy work of these things.

‘She’s a common character in gothic ghost stories,’ I say. ‘Think of The Woman in Black or Mrs Rochester in Jane Eyre. She descends from legends like the one in The Wife of Bath’s Tale, where a beautiful woman becomes a hideous hag, or vice versa.’

‘I’ve definitely met her,’ says Ted.

I’m not going to be diverted. We have had enough about Ted’s love life over the last two days. ‘Of course,’ I say, ‘you have legends like the one in Keats’ Lamia where a snake actually turns into a woman.’

‘But there’s no snake woman in The Stranger,’ says Una.

‘No,’ I say. ‘R.M. Holland tends to avoid women in his fiction altogether.’

‘But you said that his wife haunts this house,’ says Ted and I curse myself for our jolly chat over the biscuits.

‘Tell us,’ say several people. The more sensitive types shiver pleasurably but, with the autumn sun streaming in through the windows, it’s hard to believe in ghosts.

‘R.M. Holland married a woman called Alice Avery,’ I say. ‘They lived here, in this house, and Alice died, possibly from a fall down the stairs. Her ghost is meant to walk the place. You see her gliding along the corridors on the first floor or even floating down the stairs. Some people say that if you see her, it’s a sign that a death is imminent.’

‘Have you ever seen her?’ asks someone.

‘No,’ I say, turning to the whiteboard. ‘Now let’s do an exercise on creating characters. Imagine that you’re at a train station . . .’

I glance surreptitiously at my watch. Only six hours to go.

The day seems to go on for ever, for centuries, for millennia. But, at last, I’m saying goodbye to the students and promising to look out for their books in the Sunday Times culture section. I collect my papers and lock the classroom. Then I’m almost sprinting across the gravel towards my car. It’s five o’clock but it feels like midnight. There are only a few lights left on in the school and the wind is blowing through the trees. I can’t wait to get home, to have a glass of wine, to think about Ella and, most of all, to see Herbert.

If you would have told me five years ago that I would become this dependent on a dog, I would have laughed. I was never one of those children who adored animals. I was brought up in North London, my parents were both academics and the only animal we owned was a cat called Medusa who was rudely uninterested in anyone but my mother. But, when I got divorced and moved to Sussex, I decided that Georgie needed a dog. A dog would be motivation to get out into the countryside, to go for walks and cut down on the hours spent staring at her phone. She could pour out her teenage angst into its uncomplaining canine ear. I’d benefit too, I thought vaguely; a dog would keep me fit and allow me to meet other dog-walkers. Much better than a book club where there was always the danger that someone would suggest The Girl on the Train.

So we went to a rescue place and we chose Herbert. Or he chose us, because that’s how it works, isn’t it? I wanted a dog that was small enough to pick up in emergencies but not so small that it somehow ceased to be a dog. Herbert’s origins are murky but the rescue place thought that he might be a cross between a cairn terrier and a poodle. He looked, in fact, just like an illustration in a child’s picture book. A white Hairy Maclary from Donaldson’s Dairy, a creature made by blobbing white paint on the page and adding legs.

And, of course, it was me that fell in love with Herbert. Oh, Georgie loves him. She takes him for walks and endows him with all sorts of anthropomorphic emotions. ‘Herbert feels shy around other dogs. It’s because he’s an only child.’ But I’m the one who dotes on him, who tells him my troubles and lets him sleep on—and often in—my bed. I love him so much that sometimes, when I look at him, I’m quite surprised to see that he’s covered in hair.

Andy, the owner of Doggy Day Care (I know, don’t judge me), is pleased to see me. He’s a genial man who loves a chat. But, at the first sight of Herbert, with his cheerful, understanding woolly face, I find myself wanting to cry. I gather him into my arms, pay Andy and almost run back to the car. I just want to get home with my animal familiar. I stop off at the shops to buy wine and chocolate biscuits, Herbert panting in my ear.

I live in a town house, a terraced two up, two down with a black front door and wrought iron railings. It’s just that this row of town houses is in the middle of the countryside, sheltered by a chalk cliff at the back. They were built to house workers at a cement factory but that’s now derelict (sightless windows, rusting machinery, wind howling through the iron rooftops at night). The houses stay on though, pretty and gentrified, facing a meadow with grazing cows and resolutely ignoring the nightmare edifice behind them. We’re used to the house now; it’s quite convenient for school and not far from Steyning, where there are some nice cafes and a great bookshop. But once in a while I catch sight of the factory and all those gaping windows and think: why would anyone choose to live here?

The slip-road leads only to the houses so it’s a surprise to see a car parked outside mine. Or is it? A

Reviews for The Stranger Diaries

[bookczuk · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Not sure where I picked this one up, but enjoyed the unfolding of the mystery and the telling of the tale. Not sure, but I suspect the lead detective will appear in future books. 2022 read.

[laytonwoman3rd · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a proper modern gothic murder mystery, with a 19th century ghost story woven in. Someone is surreptitiously making notes in Clare Cassidy's diaries, while members of her department at the high school where she teaches English are turning up dead, in a manner suggestive of the ghost story she often uses in class to illustrate creative writing techniques. Multiple narrators help to keep one guessing as to who is reliable and who isn't. Lots of literary allusions here, most of them spelled out, but a few left to the reader to suss out. Couldn't have enjoyed this one more.Reviewed in April, 2022

[rosands-494665 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Enjoyed the book Great fast paced thriller. Lots of twists and turns. Kept me guessing all through the book.

[xaverie_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I read this one aloud to my wife and we both really enjoyed it.

Harbinder Kaur is a fun protagonist, as far as the murder squad copper goes; she's clever, caustic, and lives at home with her parents. She's also a lesbian, but determined not to come out to those same Sikh parents - probably because she just doesn't want the drama. She's a strong protagonist, so I'm excited to see that she seems to be the lead of the author's new series.

Clare Cassidy and her daughter Georgie were enjoyable counterpoints to Harbinder's perspective. Though no less clever, Clare's smattering of middle class snobbery and Georgie's acerbic teenage deconstructions fleshed out the aspects of the story we didn't get to see with Harbinder.

[foggidawn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Talgarth High, the school where Clare teaches, is not particularly prestigious. The one thing it's known for is that the old building and the grounds used to be the estate of author R.M. Holland, whose short story "The Stranger" is a prime example of the Victorian horror genre. Clare, an English teacher, knows the story well, and in fact, she is writing a biography of the enigmatic author. However, events take a turn for the macabre when people with a connection to Clare start being found murdered in ways eerily similar to those in the story.I enjoyed this book, with its literary allusions and school setting. I was kept guessing the whole way through, though the murderer was one of my top three suspects. I was particularly impressed by the intentional way the author used multiple narrators to reveal different facets of the story. There's not too much gore (which is as I prefer it), and the suspense builds throughout the book. Recommended.

[downtownlibrarian · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I’ve read this book twice, once for my own enjoyment and once for a book club, which was equally enjoyable! It’s a real mystery lover’s mystery and I can see why it won the Edgar. Highly recommended!

[rmarcin-630843 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Creepy tale set primarily at a school, with undertones from the Gothic era. Clare Cassidy is a beautiful English teacher with a teenage daughter, Georgia. She is divorced from her husband Simon, and he is remarried with 2 young children. Clare is writing a book about a mysterious author who wrote The Stranger. When her best friend, Ella, another English teacher at the school is murdered, Clare is devastated. She writes of her feelings in her diary, and sees similarities to the mysterious author who once lived at the school. As more people close to Clare become harmed, she is both considered a suspect and a potential victim. DS Harbinder Kaur is assigned to investigate. (1st in series)Cleverly weaving the present and the past, this is a ghost story that will have you guessing!

[whybehave2002 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This story builds in momentum as you read it. I never saw the ending coming. And afterall, isn't that what we look for in a story that keeps us on the edge of our seat?

[ffortsa · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The precursor to [The Postscript Murders], although I don't know how connected they are. Another odd mystery, although there is indeed a murderer. The motif of beautiful women in danger, mixed with horror stories, is a little off-putting, I think.

[maura853 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A good read! Probably says something that I stormed through it in a couple of days -- 8/10 hours "eyes to page" reading time, at most! I thought her pacing was particularly skilful -- alternating between the POVs of Clare, DI Kour and Clare's daughter Georgia, was a good way of keeping readers on their toes, and providing a fresh, unsettling perspective on both the creepy events at Talgarth High School, and the characters.

This is my first novel by Elly Griffiths, but I'm looking forward to more.

[quondame · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This doesn't quite come off as a modern gothic tale, but it's an interesting enough story with people who seem more real than most modern mysteries I've encountered.

[lauralkeet · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Stranger Diaries is the first in a series featuring Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur, and concerns the murder of an English teacher at a secondary school. The story opens in the voice of Clare Cassidy, a close friend and colleague of the victim. Clare is researching the life and work of a fictional author whose best-known work is a creepy gothic short story. The short story is told in parts between chapters of the novel, and it seems the murderer may be imitating parts of the story. The narration rotates between Clare, her daughter Georgia, and Harbinder. I loved seeing the same events from multiple perspectives, and the format encouraged me to look for connections in an attempt to identify the murderer. Harbinder’s chapters also touched on some of her personal history and circumstances, setting her up as a recurring character in future novels. I’m definitely adding this to my series list.

[eyejaybee · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Elly Griffiths demonstrates her dexterity again, combining a well crafted contemporary whodunit with a homage to traditional Gothic horror stories.Glamorous English teacher Clare Cassidy has been working on a book about R M Holland , a Victorian writer of ghost stories, best known for his short tale, The Stranger. Clare had always been interested in Holland’s work, but is particularly driven now as the school she teaches at is situated in Holland’s old house by the Sussex coast. As the novel opens, she learns that her closest friend has just been murdered in her own flat, apparently by an intruder. There are, however, a few odd aspects about the crime, and the police are convinced that the assailant was known to the victim.The investigation is led by Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur, who defies the crime fiction stereotypes, being both Sikh and lesbian, who at thirty-five still lives at home with her parents. She is a powerful and very empathetic character. Griffiths develops the plot with great assurance, moving between three different narrative – one in the form of Harbinder’s thought, while the others take the form of diary entries from Clare and her daughter Georgia, a pupil at the school. I don’t want to say much m ore for fear of compromising some of the dexterous plot twists, but this is a highly entertaining novel, very different from Elly Griffiths’s series featuring Ruth Galloway, but just as rewarding for the reader.

[janerawoof · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Now THIS is a Gothic novel as compared to the last one I read, which was a complete load of clichés! Creepy and spooky atmosphere! Claire Cassidy, an English literature teacher, lives one, with 2 murders [whodunnit and why]. Who and why are they writing in her diary? I was absolutely enthralled from the very first sentence all through till the reveal. Told by various characters, alternating, either to propel the story forward or to tell of the same events from their particular point of view, "Rashomon"-like. Highly recommended.

[rglossne · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Clare Gallagher teaches English in a private school, and is writing a book about a Gothic writer named R. M. Holland, who used to live in the school's oldrst building. People close to Clare begin dying in ways that Holland wrote about, and on the scene comes a no-nonsense detective who suspects everyone. Clare has kept a diary for her whole life, and when she turns to it for comfort, she starts to find an unfamiliar handwriting there. Has Holland's famous story, The Stranger, come to life? Will Clare and the detective solve it first? Who can be trusted? This Edgar-winning novel introduced a new writer to me, and is a whodunit not to be missed!

[perednia_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Engaging mystery with characters that I'm glad to see will become part of a series. Even guessing whodunit didn't spoil reading the story.

[sandyamcpherson · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Single mom and daughter encounter murder, romance and ghostly, almost paranormal situations. It was Griffiths' good characterisations that carried the day, but I can't say I cared for the way the policewoman (Harbinder Kaur) was portrayed. The plot was occasionally implausible to an annoying degree (all Clare's personal diaries suddenly being demanded by the police?), too convoluted for its own good, and the dénouement was rather a rushed, illogical affair. My favourite character was actually Bryony Hughes. There was something reminiscent of Cathbad (in the Ruth Galloway novels) about Bryony. I believe the Hughes' character was more suited as a greater participant in the Stranger Dairies narrative. As it was, her role felt flat-lined although it seemed pivotal in the plot.

[pierthinker · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Clare Cassidy, a secondary school English teacher, keeps a diary and is an expert on a Victorian writer famous for a short horror story who lived at the school where she teaches. Another teacher is murdered and Clare finds that someone is reading her diary and has added comments in the same handwriting as a note left with the victim. As further murderous activity piles up the police are unsure if Clare’s close circle of family and friends are potential victims or include the murderer.Griffiths is an experienced and high quality crime fiction author, famous for the Ruth Galloway and Stephens and Mephisto series. In this outing into a more suspenseful and gothic horror-like genre she maintains that quality. The plot twists are fresh and keep us off-balance and there are some genuinely scary moments amidst the overall unease about what is actually happening. The final reveal is both startling and satisfying.The characters are finely drawn and believable and even the walk-on parts have a three-dimensional shape to them, making the whole enterprise that much more real. For me, the character that holds the whole piece together is Detective Sergeant Harbinder Kaur. As well as plenty of copper nous she has an interesting and slightly vulnerable personal side that allows us to warm to her after a rocky start. I would like to see more of her in future books. Perhaps another star of a series?

[helenliz_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is really good for the majority of the book, it just tails of as it approaches the ending. Told in the first person by 3 different women, it tells of a series of murders. The proimary setting is a chool, which used to be the home of an author. This author's most famous works is a sjort story set at Halloween and the initial murders bear an uncanny resemblence to the murders that occur within the short story. The tale is further complicated by the author's wife apparently fell from the upper story and is seen as a ghost that predicts furhter deaths. The first person tale moves between Claire, (teaches English at the school and is writing a book about the author, as well as uses his short story in her creative writing classes), her daughter Georgia (15, adolescent, has an unsuitable boyfriend) and Harbinder (detective, used to go to the school concerned). This works well as a device in the early stages, with extensive passages by each person, giving them time to find their voice and appear as dsctinct people. However as the book progresses, the time in each book shortens, and at this stage it becomes a bit disjointed. It seems to almost work against the ratchetting up of the tension by moveing the scene from one to the other and each change seems to release the tension. The surmise of the conneciton between the book and the murders works well for the first part, but gradually the link becomes broken and so it seems like an artifice that didn;t really serve a purpose. I liked the setting, as it was located in places I knew, and so the landscape worked for me. It was a good read, but not one that left me flinching when the lights went out.

[delphimo_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The Stranger Diaries by Elly Griffiths presents a better mystery with two mysteries within the novel and three narrators: a mother, Clare, her daughter, Georgia, and the police inspector, DS Harbinder Kaur. Griffiths utilizes quotations from Romeo and Juliet and The Tempest, plus passages from The Stranger by RM Holland. Griffiths displays the full story of The Stranger at the end of the book. As new people are murdered, the hunt for the killer accelerates. What is the motive? Envy? Love? Diaries by Clare and Georgia relate feelings and frustrations that could lead to murder. One of the memorable quotations from The Tempest appears at all the murder scenes, “hell is empty, and all the devils are here”. So many clues and such inspiring quotations.

[stephanie_m-868484 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is a pretty decent stand-alone thriller which I enjoyed for the most part. But then the ending fell apart, and didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the novel very well. Still, if was interesting and it kept me entertained for a while.
3.5 stars, and recommended.

[lisa2013_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The text in spoiler tags really are spoilers for this book. Just a warning. I read this book as a buddy read with Hilary. We ran out of the Ruth Galloway series books and decided to try the standalone next. I’m glad I read it. I liked it. I will read book 12 of the Ruth series as soon as it’s available to me, and I’d like to try this author’s other series too. I’m glad I read this as a buddy read because for a short time that obligation is what kept me reading.3-1/2 stars for this book. Most of the time as I read it was a 3 star book for me. Early on only it was at times only a 2 star book for me. By the end I’m thinking it is kind of brilliant and is probably worth 4 stars. I might change from 3 or 4 stars and back a few times before I decide my rating. For now it's a 4 because I'm glad I read it and these days I'm glad only when my read books are 5 or 4 star worthy.I enjoyed the different POV narrators: Clare, Harbinder, and Georgia.I wasn’t overly fond of anyone the way I am in the Ruth Galloway series books but at least they were interesting characters, and my opinions of people changed the more I learned about them. By the end I did like most of the characters. I ended up liking all three of the female narrators. It took me a bit of time to get into the book but I ended up liking it. Due to the references of Wilkie Collins and other books, I thought too hard, especially regarding which characters were reliable and which unreliable, and having a hard time trusting any of them. I’m a fan of only a relatively few gothic genre books. I’d been afraid this book would get darker (more scary, more violent) than the Ruth Galloway books. It was okay for me though. I was greatly relieved that what I’d feared all along and at one point toward the end in particular did not happen. The dog was not killed. The dog was a hero dog and I ended up really liking him. I guessed throughout about the culprit and about a lot, and I made mostly wrong guesses. As I read I thought it was impossible to guess but the author left great hints about the identity of the culprit. It wouldn’t have been that hard of a mystery to solve. The dog didn’t like the murderer, and that should have told me everything. As I read I liked the main story but didn’t much like the story within the story but after the story proper the short story within the story is at the end in its entirety, all together. I was dreading reading it and had wondered why was it so revered by an English teacher or so well liked by so many readers. When I read it all at once though I did like it and did think it was a good short story. It’s funny how even though authors write different sorts of books, readers can often recognize them from book to book. From reading the first eleven books of the Ruth Galloway series, I “recognize” this author. A companion dog, a child (teen here), single parenting, a vegan café shows up and a person “threatening”/”aspiring” to be a vegetarian, mention of a school where are girls with eating disorders. Body image issues. Etc. etc. etc. And veg*n mistakes or at least behaviors that don’t match intent.

[thiscatsabroad · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It´s clear who the killer is early one, but nionetheless an enjoyable read. The 15-year old´s narration didn´t ring true, & I almost wished that the entire book had been narrated by the detective.

[sandrabrower · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Murders are happening in the small town of Sussex all related to the old home of R.M. Holland long turned Talgarth High School. Detective Sergent Harbinder Kaur is called in to solve the case revolving around Clare Cassidy.

In The Stranger Diaries, we meet a whole cast of students, teachers and others who enrich this masterful telling of a murder tale fit for a fireside ghost story. The characters are well fleshed out, the communication is effortless and the not knowing who could be hanging around the corner of the wall was an anticipatory chilling feeling. I found the story of The Stranger by R.M. Holland told within The Stranger Diaries as a genius move by Ms. Griffiths. You never really knew if the story being told was prevalent to the book or not. You will have to read it to find out.

I couldn't put this book down. I found it swerving and curving on who the murderer could be and never suspected who it turned out to be at the end. That is the sign of a good book.

A who-done-it story within a twisted thriller how could you not like The Stranger Diaries written by Elly Griffiths?

I give Stranger Diaries 5 stars for just a good old fashioned murder mystery. :)

[gwendydd · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An English teacher at a British high school is murdered, and her murder mimics some details from a Victorian Gothic short story written by a man who used to live at the school. One of the teacher's close friends and co-workers keeps a diary, and mysterious writing starts to appear in her diary. This is an engaging murder mystery, spiced up with lots of details from Gothic literature. Interspersed throughout the book is the Victorian short story that inspires the murders. The school is haunted by ghosts, and the supernatural element deepens the mystery. The book is narrated from multiple points of view: the diary-keeping English teacher, her daughter, and the detective investigating the case. It's an unusual twist to see the same scenes from different characters' perspectives. This is a very engaging and satisfying mystery.

[nbmars · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Griffiths brings her skill with characters and crimes to bear in this standalone “book-within-a-book” that is not associated with any of her ongoing series.The main protagonist (although narration alters in the book) is Clare Cassidy, 45, who teaches English at Talgarth High in West Sussex, England. One of the buildings of the school is the very same Gothic mansion where, in the upstairs rooms, R. M. Holland, a (fictional) horror writer, once lived. This fact is especially meaningful to Clare because she is working on a biography of Holland. The story about Clare and her life as she navigates the tricky shoals of being a divorced mother of a 15-year-old teen is interspersed with excerpts from Holland’s most famous work, a chilling ghost story called “The Stranger.” As the novel opens, Clare’s close colleague has just been gruesomely murdered. Furthermore, a note left by the corpse ties the murder to Holland’s tale. This potentially could implicate Clare, the resident expert on Holland and his work. She is more worried however that she herself may be in danger, since she recently found a stranger's writing addressed to her in one of her private diaries.DS Harbinder Kaur, a member of the Sussez Murder Squad, is in charge of investigating the case. Harbinder still lives at home with her Punjabi parents, where she tries to maintain a balance between her mom’s worries about her daughter's dangerous job with her own need to be out at all hours investigating. Harbinder is peppery, witty, and very clever, although she likes to hide the latter fact from others; it serves her better for them to underestimate her.Another body soon appears, again tied to “The Stranger,” along with another ominous note. It is clear the killer knows the victims, and vice versa, and there is a great deal of panic as additional attacks occur. Harbinder in particular understands she doesn’t have much time to prevent the conclusion of Holland’s story from being reenacted in “real life” [that is, in the story about the story] and she struggles frantically to connect the dots before it is too late.Discussion: Griffiths does an excellent job replicating a Gothic tone for the ghost story she crafts for this book. In addition, despite writing in the crime genre, Griffiths’s main protagonists always manage to come across as wryly funny and even adorable. As spooky as this story often was, I also found myself laughing out loud.

[brianewilliams · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

My thanks to the publisher Houghton Mifflin Harcourt and Netgalley for providing a review copy of this eBook. The comments written below are my own.The story arises from the murder of a popular English teacher at a public secondary school in present day England. It's told by several narrators: a female colleague of the victim, her daughter, and a thirty-something female police detective investigating the murder. Each of these narrators brings a unique point of view to each other and the events of the investigation. Noteworthy is that any males are relegated to supporting roles, not always in a favourable light.The police detective, who comes from a Sikh family, lives at home with her parents. She is gay, out to almost everyone but her family. Her parents keep hoping she'll find a husband and settle down to have a family. At the beginning she is antagonistic toward the victim's colleague, but as the story develops this falls away. Their interaction is an interesting highlight of the story.It's a suspenseful story, with numerous red herrings to make the story-telling more interesting without being distracting. There's an exciting chase scene at the end of the story before the surprise identity of the killer is revealed.A good read, an excellent blend of mystery, suspense and characterization.

[atticusfinch1048 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Stranger Diaries – Wonderfully DarkPopular crime writer, Elly Griffths has written a stand alone thriller that is different to the other series that she writes but is still good enough to be recommended by BBC Radio 2 Book Club, The Sunday Times Crime Club and the Times Crime Book of the Year. So highly recommended from others who have considerable credit in the book recommendation game.What is clear from the beginning is that we are in for a treat, that nothing is as it seems. Clare Cassidy, an English teacher, an adult educator mother and divorcee, is researching and writing a biography of fictional author RM Holland. A man who could inspire many conspiracy theories in his own right, a writer of The Stranger and other fictional stories. Clare also happens to teach in what was RM Holland’s house.During half-term, her friend and departmental colleague, Ella is found murdered and the beginning of where her work life starts to clash with her personal interests. Brings her in to contact with the police and in particular Harbinder Kaur, a detective on a mission. Kaur suspects that Clare knows the killer, whereas she does not have a clue. Even if she does have her suspicions. My favourite character in the book is Herbert, and how he got his name, but then I am a big softie where dogs are concerned. What I do like is how Griffths manages to overlap the various perspectives, different narrators and the timeline. So yes, you do have to stop and think, and make sure you remember who the narrator is at the time. While this is a dark thriller it produces dark humour, so it does not become heavy going.Elly Griffths is a skilled story teller who can weave many threads together to make a truly engrossing thriller that grips you from beginning to end.

[lkernagh · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This story - billed as the author’s first stand-alone novel - caught my eye earlier this year as a number of Librarything members were reading and commenting on it. Having never read any of Griffiths previous works, I was happy when I finally got my hands on a copy and settled in for what I was hoping would be an atmospheric Gothic read. What I discovered instead was a modern day police procedural, more along the lines of Tana French’s The Secret Place, the weakest book in French’s Dublin Murder Squad series, IMO, and not just because of the school setting similarities. With three narrators – Clare, her 15 year-old daughter “Georgie” and D.S. (Detective Sergeant) Harbindar Kaur – Griffiths manages to juggle the varying perspectives, with some success. The end result is a mixed bag of tidbits for readers to analyze, red herrings and all. Griffiths does a decent job ramping up the suspense but suspense only carries a story so far. This one tends to falter, largely in part to my reaction to the characters. I like D.S. Kaur, but I found Clare to be a bit of a cold fish and even Georgie came across a bit “off” for me. I am also not a fan of the added white witch stuff, either. As for the ending, that was pushing things a bit for me on the believe-ability scale. Thankfully, Griffiths did provide a wonderfully atmospheric Gothic horror story, but in the form of “the Stranger”, a short story revealed as excepts throughout the book (and repeated in its entirety at the end of the book). Now that was fabulous writing! Everything I expect in a first rate Gothic horror story. Too bad the whole story wasn’t written in that vein. *sighs* Overall, I get the feeling from reading some other reviews that this book is very different from Griffiths Ruth Galloway series, which is good to know. For rating this one, I would give the Gothic horror short story full marks (or at least 4.5 stars) but I struggle to give the main story more than a 3.2 stars.

[thornton37814 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

The story had potential, but its execution was poor. The novel, told through multiple voices, relates a Gothic story from the past and murders from the present, all linked to a building which now houses a school where Clare teaches English but where the author R. M. Holland once lived. The narrative centers on his story The Stranger which seems to be linked to the present-day murders. The book's biggest failure may be in the narration. I only connected with the detective's narration. The other parts and the diary entries failed to command my attention. The Gothic element failed as well. Others enjoyed this book, but I struggled to keep reading it. I will forget most of its non-memorable text in a week.