Mary Watson, author of the addictive thriller, The Cleaner, on how she is ‘a firm believer in the idea of writing the book you want to read’ . . .
I always think that there are several beginnings to any book, either thoughts or observations or moments that shape an incremental pattern. When I look back, trying to trace a book’s origins, it seems more like series of sparks that eventually turn to flame.
With The Cleaner, I knew I wanted to write a psychological thriller in a domestic setting, but from an outsider’s point of view. I had a vague idea that the main character would be a cleaner with a hidden agenda. One day, I saw on a WhatsApp group that a few neighbours all used the services of the same cleaner. I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be fun if these people had secrets. I realised that a vital element of using a cleaner’s perspective was that she could have access to a few homes, and it would be interesting to explore how they fit together. I began shaping a story around the core image of one woman, a cleaner, who had access to the private spaces of three different but connected families. And that this cleaner was particularly targeting three women, whose secrets she needed to uncover. It appealed to me that my imaginary cleaner would gain a unique perspective of these women, and that it might be different to how they present themselves outside the home. This was one of several sparks.
Many years ago, I left Cape Town to spend a year of my PhD studies at Bristol University. I had my first ever panic attack on the airport bus as it left the terminal. I couldn’t breathe, was dissociated, and my throat had closed up. Arriving in London after the twelve hour flight, the panic had subsided but the closed-up throat lingered. I’d been a horribly shy child but, having completed a degree in drama and with some work as an actor, I thought I’d left that behind. For those first weeks in Bristol, it felt as though I’d lost my voice, and it was an awful, disempowering thing. A few years later, when I moved with my Irish husband from Cape Town to Galway, some of that strangeness persisted: a tentativeness stemming from a feeling I didn’t belong. That I was invisible, marginal, without the familiarity of my old world where I had work I’d loved and people who understood without me having to explain. I always knew that I wanted to explore this particular upheaval in a book, probably several books, but without it being the main focus and putting it too much under the lens. I wanted to come at it obliquely, in a sideways lunge, and turn the experience upside down. More importantly, I wanted to take that uncomfortable feeling of being ill-fitted and out of place, and make it something different. Something stronger. This was another spark.
I spoke to my agent about this story that was brewing, and I promised to send first chapters when I had them. Soon after the first lockdown began, I had a few weeks between deadlines and began putting down first words. I started writing The Cleaner at a time when my world felt reduced to my home and our immediate surrounds, closed and cut off, and I think this lingers in the book. During these weeks, my dad was diagnosed with cancer and died, and I think this grief is knitted into the book too. I put The Cleaner aside to finish my contracted work, but the first chapters written in those otherworldly days was a third spark.
There are several more starts – my fascination with ‘Porphyria’s Lover’, a poem by Robert Browning which eventually became the Eden Hale sections; my enduring interest in fairy tales and dark love. My early childhood memories of the TV adaptation of Shirley Conran’s Lace, (which one of you bitches is my mother?) an echo or rhyme that only registered while I was immersed in the writing.
I also wanted to work on something varied, away from what I’d been publishing in the preceding years, making this a shift from young adult fantasy to adult thriller. I wanted to write something with a different kind of bite. There isn’t a huge distinction for me in writing adult and young adult – they take the same amount of time and research, and the word count has been roughly the same. But there is more of a responsibility when writing young adult fiction; there is, of course, a duty of care when writing for a younger audience. With The Cleaner, I felt the gloves could come off, so to speak, and that I could nudge boundaries more, muddy things a little. When writing young adult, I have to work harder to be aware of the content that young adult readers are consuming, and to be familiar with the world they inhabit. This all comes easier when writing on adult terrain, for obvious reasons!
I am a firm believer in the idea of writing the book you want to read, and this book, with its intricate plotting, slow burn, obsession, dark love, and family secrets, is exactly the kind of book I like to read.
(c) Mary Watson
About The Cleaner by Mary Watson:
It’s not dust she’s looking for.
It’s dirt.
Esmie is meant to be invisible. Just a cleaner with a foreign accent that no one quite has time to place, and a uniform of leggings and a duster that allows her to explore the homes of the wealthy Woodlands gated community, unnoticed.
Which is exactly what she wants. Because Esmie isn’t really a cleaner.
One of the residents of Woodlands has ruined her life. And when she finds out who, she’s going to make them pay . . .
This beautifully sinister, propulsive page-turner that explores themes of identity and privilege is perfect for fans of Harriet Tyce and Lisa Jewell.
‘Beautiful, dark, visceral, truly spellbinding.’ – ANDREA MARA, Sunday Times No. 1 bestselling author
Order your copy of The Cleaner by Mary Watson online here.
