The Longing: A bestselling psychological thriller you won’t be able to put down
A compulsive and topical psychological thriller and a contemporary story of obsession, in which a happily married, educated, middle-class woman is driven to snatch a stranger’s baby from its pram.All she wanted was a baby. Was that so much to ask? A baby to nourish in her body, to give birth with pain and pleasure, to adore. A baby to suckle and care for, to clean and cuddle and comfort. A baby to make her whole and complete. But her womb was empty and its emptiness filled her days and her nights, invaded her dreams, determined every waking thought. A baby. All she wanted was a baby…
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The characters and events in this book are entirely fictional. No reference to any person, living or dead, is intended or should be inferred.
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This edition 1997
First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollinsPublishers 1996
Copyright © Jane Asher 1996
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Jane Asher asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780007571826
Ebook Edition © DECEMBER 2013 ISBN: 9780007571826 Version: 2017-12-18
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To Gerald
THE LONGING
Celebrated British actress of stage and screen, Jane Asher is also well known for her many other activities, especially her non-fiction books and journalism and her successful cake making business. The Longing is her stunning debut novel, and was published in hardcover to widespread acclaim in 1996. She lives in London, with her husband and three children, and is working on her second novel.
Critical acclaim for The Longing:
‘Topical, emotion-charged, [The Longing] grips from the first page and conveys with extraordinary vividness the terrible anguish experienced by couples who cannot start their longed-for baby.’
VAL HENNESSY, Daily Mail
‘A writer who does convey real emotional power . . . The Longing is a story about infertility: the desperation that overtakes couples who can’t conceive and the tragic consequences of that desperation. Like all really good novels, it is true – not in the factual sense, but in the way that its characters seem real and the world in which they move is one we recognise. Even better, its power increases as it goes on, drawing you further into its plot, gripping more tightly with every page . . . if Jane Asher were not already famous, this book would make her so.’
Daily Express
‘Thought provoking, polished and professional, a modern tale of Gothic horror.’
The Times
‘Strong dialogue drives the plot along and short, intercutting scenes add structure and drama.’
TLS
‘Tightly plotted and pacily told.’
Daily Telegraph
‘An absorbing and thought-provoking read.’
Eastern Daily Press
‘A taut psychological thriller . . . she deftly weaves each strand of the very clever plot, keeping the reader tied to every last word.’
Belfast Telegraph
‘Asher undoubtedly has an eye for character. The Longing is a good, if emotionally draining read.’
Punch
‘A celebrity novel from, at last, a celebrity who can actually write them.’
SHERIDAN MORLEY, Sunday Times
Contents
The effort was exhausting him; instead of getting excited he felt depressed and hopeless. He sighed and stretched his arms out in front of him until his linked fingers cracked at the knuckles, then looked down again at the magazine on his lap, turning the page to be confronted by yet another tight, artificially tanned bottom thrusting uninvitingly up at him, breasts lolling in the background. Instead of making him stiffer, it merely made him despair.
Throwing the magazine back on to the table he stood up, moved over to the line of videos in the small bookcase and scanned the covers in search of inspiration, humming an unidentifiable tune as he turned his head first one way and then another to read the titles. ‘Might be worth a try,’ he muttered to himself as he pulled one out, then slotted it into the open-mouthed recorder and sat back to watch. After a few moments of fascination at the proportions of the girls gambolling on the beach, he realised he had completely forgotten the purpose of it all and had let his mind wander off into thinking how small the little lines must be to fit in six hundred and twenty-five on the screen. ‘Oh, this is ridiculous,’ he said out loud, and blew out his lips in exasperation as he got up and switched off the recorder.
Another tack. He sat on the plastic seat of the nearest chair, leant back against the wall, closed his eyes and thought of Julie, picturing her undressing in the slowly casual way she did when she knew he was watching her. He felt a comforting little twitch of response and persevered. Julie arching her back as she undid her bra, leaning forward to pull down her tights, smiling at him from under her hair as if shy of him after ten years of marriage.
