The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell
The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell is an eerie, slow-burn gothic horror novels that sticks with you. It’s got that classic Victorian haunted-house vibe, but it’s also got this unsettling psychological angle that keeps you guessing about what’s real and what’s imagined. It’s all about atmosphere—creaky old mansions, shadowy corridors, and a sense of isolation that builds up as the story goes on. It’s a ghost story, but it’s not like a typical jump-scare kind of horror. It creeps up on you, which makes it even more disturbing.
A Grim Inheritance
The main character, Elsie Bainbridge, is a widow who’s just inherited her late husband’s crumbling estate, a mansion called The Bridge. She’s pregnant and grieving, and from the start, you can tell she’s not exactly thrilled to be moving into this old, dilapidated house. The Bridge is in the middle of nowhere, and it’s full of dust, strange noises, and secrets that haven’t been touched for years. Elsie’s only real company is her husband’s cousin, Sarah, who seems well-meaning but a bit naive.
Right away, you get the sense that something’s not quite right with the house. There’s this lingering gloom over everything, and Purcell does a great job of making the setting feel oppressive. The house almost becomes a character in itself, with its dark corners and strange, foreboding atmosphere. Elsie isn’t in the best frame of mind either—she’s grieving, isolated, and dealing with her pregnancy, so you start to wonder how much of what she’s experiencing is real and how much is her unraveling.
The Discovery of the Silent Companions
The real heart of the horror comes when Elsie and Sarah start exploring the house and come across these strange wooden figures called silent companions. They’re old, life-sized cutouts of people, painted in a way that makes them look unsettlingly realistic. There’s something off about them from the start—they’re not quite lifelike, but they’re close enough to make you feel uneasy. The first one they find is in a locked room, and it’s positioned in such a way that it looks like it’s watching them.
The companions are supposed to be decorative, but there’s something inherently creepy about them, especially when Elsie notices that they seem to move when no one’s looking. At first, she tries to rationalize it, thinking maybe it’s her imagination or that someone is playing tricks on her. But as the story goes on, the companions become more threatening. They’re always just on the edge of her vision, like they’re watching her, following her, and even influencing the events in the house.
The Past and the Present
The novel alternates between two timelines—Elsie’s story in the 1860s and another set in the 1600s, which involves a previous occupant of the house, Anne Bainbridge. As Elsie uncovers more about the house’s history, you start to see how the past and the present are intertwined. There’s something deeply wrong with the Bainbridge family, and whatever haunted them seems to be seeping into Elsie’s life as well.
Anne’s story gives you a lot of insight into the origins of the silent companions and the dark forces at work in the house. Without spoiling too much, let’s just say there’s a mix of superstition, fear, and betrayal that feeds into the supernatural events. The way Purcell weaves these two timelines together is really effective—you’re constantly piecing together clues from both the past and the present, and the tension builds as you realize how the two stories are connected.
Isolation and Madness
A big theme in The Silent Companions is isolation, both physical and mental. Elsie is cut off from the outside world in this crumbling mansion, with only Sarah and the house’s servants for company. But even more than that, she’s isolated in her grief and her fear. As strange things start happening with the companions, she becomes more and more paranoid, unsure if she’s losing her mind or if something supernatural is really happening.
Purcell does a great job of making you question what’s real. Is Elsie being haunted by ghosts, or is she descending into madness? The companions are creepy, but what makes them even scarier is how they play into Elsie’s mental state. She’s already fragile, and the isolation of the house makes everything worse. You start to wonder if the house is feeding off her fear, or if she’s projecting her grief and guilt onto these inanimate figures.
The Gothic Horror Elements
The novel is full of classic gothic horror elements—an isolated mansion, a tragic backstory, a creepy supernatural presence—but it’s also got a psychological edge that keeps it fresh. The companions are the main source of horror, but there’s also this underlying sense of dread that builds throughout the book. You know something terrible is going to happen, but you’re never quite sure when or how.
The house itself is almost a metaphor for Elsie’s state of mind—crumbling, full of secrets, and haunted by the past. There’s a lot of focus on the themes of grief, guilt, and family curses, which gives the novel a deeper emotional resonance than just a typical ghost story. The pacing is slow but deliberate, and by the time things start to spiral out of control, you’re so immersed in the atmosphere that it feels inevitable.
A Story About Trauma
One of the most interesting aspects of the book is how it explores trauma. Elsie is dealing with the loss of her husband, the strain of her pregnancy, and the weight of her family’s history. As things start to unravel, you get the sense that the companions are tied to her own unresolved pain and fear. There’s a psychological layer to the horror that makes it feel more personal and intense. It’s not just about ghosts or haunted houses—it’s about how the past can haunt you in ways you can’t always escape.
The way Purcell handles Elsie’s mental state is really well done. She’s not the most sympathetic character—she’s prickly, stubborn, and often makes questionable decisions—but you can’t help but feel for her as she spirals deeper into the mystery of the house. The companions are creepy, but the real horror is watching Elsie’s grip on reality start to slip, and the tension comes from not knowing if she’ll be able to hold on or if the house will consume her completely.
The Unsettling Ending
Without spoiling the ending, I’ll just say that it’s one of those stories where the horror lingers. Purcell doesn’t go for a big, flashy climax—instead, she builds up this slow, creeping dread that sticks with you long after you’ve finished the book. The ending leaves a lot of questions unanswered, which makes it all the more unsettling. It’s the kind of story that makes you think about what you’ve just read, and whether or not everything was as straightforward as it seemed.
The Silent Companions is one of those gothic novels that’s more about the journey than the destination. It’s not about shocking twists or gore—it’s about building tension, creating a claustrophobic atmosphere, and letting the horror unfold in a way that feels both inevitable and surprising. If you like stories that are more psychological and atmospheric, this one’s definitely worth a read. It’s creepy in a subtle way, and it leaves you with this lingering sense of unease that’s hard to shake.