In keeping with the popular trend of amnesia thrillers such as Elizabeth is Missing by Emma Healey and Before I Go To Sleep by S.J. Watson, The Girl on The Train features another fallible protagonist who struggles to remember the facts of the previous night when a girl went missing, and yet she has the distinct impression she knows something about it.
The narrative is shared between three women: Rachel, Megan and Anna, whose lives slowly become intertwined. Rachel takes the train to and from London, and uses her journeys as an excuse to drink: “It’s Friday, so I don’t have to feel guilty about drinking on the train.” Her commute passes a street of houses, one of which she used to live in with her ex-husband, now occupied by him, his new wife Anna and their child. To deflect her pain, she turns her attention to Number 15, slowly drawn in by the young couple who live there, convinced they have the perfect life. Her obsession grows to the point of donning them with nicknames, Jason and Jess, and watching out for them every time she passes. One day she notices a strange occurrence in the lives of Jason and Jess, only to discover the following day that Jess (whose real name is Megan) has gone missing. Rachel approaches the police with information, trying to save Jason (whose real name is Scott), certain that he is innocent.
The problem is that Rachel is a drunk, and the police won’t listen to a thing she says. It’s also revealed she has been stalking Tom and Anna, which makes her an unreliable witness, no matter how much she tries to convince them of what she knows.
What makes this book so addictive is not just the intrigue itself, but the flawed characters. The alcoholic female lead is deplorable and yet human at the same time, you find yourself frustrated with her cyclical behaviour yet willing her to get herself together. She is contrasted with the electric and erratic Megan, a complex character who hides her flaws beneath her charm, and attractive Anna, who revels in her victory over Rachel. The novel brings to mind the successful thriller Gone Girl with the somewhat slippery grieving widower Scott, and other characters displaying more than one identity.
Hawkins masters the ability to switch between time-scales and characters seamlessly, slowly building the suspense into a dramatic crescendo. She manages to show the ugliness of certain characters without losing empathy for them, creating an intriguing insight into human nature.
