Other children were born on the island after she died, children who had never known Nessa or Misty Hill or what had taken place on Inisrún that night. We told them our stories. It was to keep her alive, we said, but maybe it was to keep ourselves alive too, the people we had once been before death had come to our shores.
Gather close, we said to them. And listen to our tale. For there were three of them, in the beginning.
We called them the Crowley Girls.
Acknowledgements
Juliet Mushens’s initial notes on an early draft of this book were exceptionally sharp, and I have been blown away by her energy, drive, and work ethic. She is a powerhouse and I’m lucky to have her as my agent.
It’s been a privilege to work with everyone at Quercus/riverrun, particularly my brilliant editor, Jon Riley, who took such care with this book. Thanks also to Jasmine Palmer, Bethan Ferguson, Hannah Robinson, Dave Murphy, Talya Baker, and everyone else who worked so diligently on my behalf. Thank you to the team at Hachette Ireland, and to those who have worked on the foreign editions of my novels.
I’ve been fortunate enough to visit the West Cork Women Against Violence Project on numerous occasions and it’s impossible to overstate the centre’s importance. If you want to see what a vocation looks like, then look no further than Marie Mulholland, who has dedicated her life to helping some of the most vulnerable women in our society. Thanks also to Susan Hurley and Colette O’ Riordan – the work they are doing is extraordinary and necessary. If you are in a position to do so, please donate what you can to your preferred domestic abuse charity. These organisations are often underfunded and overworked, even though they are saving people’s lives.
Thank you to Bertie Gillan of Inis Mór, Síle Foley of Inis Oírr, Áine Bonner of Arranmore, and Neil O’ Regan of Cape Clear for telling me their stories about growing up on the islands. Thanks also to Eibhlín Leonard of Ard na Gaoithe, Cape Clear, for her hospitality.
Thank you to Professor Marie Cassidy, the former State Pathologist of Ireland, for being so patient with me and my many questions. She was kind enough to read the relevant chapter in this book and offered incredibly useful suggestions. Thanks to Garda Brendan and to Mick Clifford, an investigative journalist with the Irish Examiner, for taking multiple phone calls and helping me shape the narrative in a way that was (hopefully!) true to life. Any inaccuracies are my own.
I am so grateful to Richard Chambers for his support and advice; writing this book would have been a very different – and much more difficult – experience without him. Thanks, Traolach Ó Buachalla, for translating the Irish phrases, proof-reading the manuscript, as well as giving me feedback as a documentary maker. Thanks to Niamh Ní Dhomnhaill for helping me figure out Keelin’s psychology career, Simone George for pointing me in the direction of books and articles I might find helpful, and Michael O’ Neill Jr from Fernhill House Hotel for taking a random phone call about generators and storms. Thanks to Rory Macken, for his guidance on Australian slang, and to Liberty of the Liberty on the Lighter Side blog who told me about life as a woman in her forties. Again, any mistakes are mine.
None of this would be possible without my friends and family. Special thanks to Anne Murphy, one of the strongest women I’ve ever known, and to Jim and Lorna Brooks, who were there for me when I needed it most.
Thank you to my greatest cheerleader, Marian Keyes, and to Catherine Doyle for being an excellent beta reader (and for coming up with the title!).
Thank you to everyone at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre in Annaghmakerrig, where much of this book was written. I am glad such a place exists.
The greatest thanks must be given to the survivors I met to discuss their experiences of domestic abuse and coercive control. I left every meeting humbled by their courage and strength. I was honoured to be trusted with their stories and I carried them with me in every word that I wrote.
Finally, After the Silence is dedicated to my beloved grandmother, Margaret Murphy, who died on the 26th of January 2019. The garden in this book, with its roses and monkey puzzle trees, is hers. I hope she would have been proud.
Author’s Note
In chapter 33, Keelin refers to the idea of ‘learned hopefulness’ rather than ‘learned helplessness’. I came across this theory in a New Yorker article called ‘The Radical Transformations of a Battered Women’s Shelter’, by Larissa MacFarquhar.
In chapter 51, the analogy Kimberley Singer uses to illustrate coercive control is taken from Evan Stark’s superb book, Coercive Control: The Entrapment of Women in Personal Life. It’s the technique a prosecutor, Sarah Buell, used to explain this kind of abuse to judges.
Bibliography
No Visible Bruises: What We Don’t Know About Domestic Violence Can Kill Us by Rachel Louise Snyder
Why Does he Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men by Lundy Bancroft
How He Gets into Her Head: The Mind of the Male Intimate Abuser by Don Hennessy
Not to People Like Us: Hidden Abuse in Upscale Marriages by Susan Weitzman
Coercive Control: The Entrapment of Women in Personal Life by Evan Stark
Operation Lighthouse: Reflections on our Family’s Devastating Story of Coercive Control and Domestic Homicide by Luke and Ryan Hart
Crazy Love: A Memoir by Leslie Morgan Steiner
On the Edge: Ireland’s off-shore islands by Diarmuid Ferriter
Oileáin: The Irish Islands Guide by David Walsh
After the Silence Page 32