My review of The Safekeep, by Yael van der Wouden

Book cover rights owned by Simon & Schuster

Quote of the book: ‘It’s not yours to give.’ – Eva, page171

Synopsis

It is fifteen years after the Second World War, and Isabel (Isa) has built herself a solitary life of discipline and strict routine in her late mother's country home, with not a fork or a word out of place. But all is upended when her brother Louis delivers his graceless new girlfriend, Eva, at Isabel's doorstep - as a guest, there to stay for the season...

In the sweltering heat of summer, Isabel's desperate need for control reaches boiling point. What happens between the two women leads to a revelation which threatens to unravel all she has ever known...

Review (spoilers ahead!)

This book is stunning, maybe my favourite read of 2025. Its genre is difficult to pin down – is it romance, mystery, historical fiction? All 3, I suppose, but what I can say for certain is that I thought about it all the time. Work and sleep were an inconvenience. I had to know what happened next.

The plot is simple, so it is style, dialogue, suspense and unexpected humour that keep the reader captivated. Isa and Eva are undeniably complex and dare I say, unlikable characters, in at least some ways. Their motivations and feelings, especially Isa’s, rarely make sense, even to her own family, making her mind a fascinating, and sometimes infuriating place to be throughout the story.

While it’s obvious that Eva is hiding something, the reader can also tell that Isa’s dislike of her is misplaced – which begs the question: who is she exactly, if not an opportunist seeking her brother's money and estate?

The book naturally references the war a lot and the possibility of Eva being Jewish seemed plausible, too much so for it to be considered a twist. We also learn that she and Isa are queer very early on, so there had to be more to it, but what?

When it is revealed (most brilliantly by the way), that Eva’s family once owned and lived in Isa's now home before they were forcibly displaced by the Nazis – it is shocking, while also falling into place perfectly with the rest of the plot.

The twist was also so much darker and more heartbreaking than I expected, leaving me unable to stop fixating on how many other clues I must had missed.

Obviously, the fixation on the patterns of the plates, which we learn belonged to Eva's mother, not Isa's; Eva’s insistence she would sleep in Isa’s late mother’s room, and the suspicious disappearance of crockery were all on the list.

But I had a different fixation, only obvious to me when Eva’s identify was revealed: her name.

I am not Jewish, but I was raised Christian and the association of the name Eva with the story of Eve: Earth’s first woman, the first sinner – created solely to keep a man company, is not lost on me. So subtle, yet so profound – this may be my favourite detail of the book.

The romance between Eva and Isa is written beautifully. They have an obvious emotional and physical connection, and despite being complete opposites, enjoy each other’s company, something you can almost feel through the pages.

That being said, I do agree with some criticism of this book that Isa’s initial detest of Eva makes it difficult to buy in to their attraction. The women do not seem to have anything in common besides the home, which can only tear them apart, rather than keep them together, and a chronic sense of loneliness.

I am not a queer woman, much less a queer woman in the 1960s, which may be why it was only after finishing and reflecting on the book did I begin to understand that they may have been bonded by something beyond compatibility: vulnerability, pain, a desire to feel seen.

‘You see, when you spend a very long time being – being quite invisible, really, and quiet, then … You see – I thought you saw me. For a second there.’

– Eva, page 246

Eva and Isa had both lost their families, by force or circumstance, and can only create lives for themselves through marriage to men, but men do not see them, as their suitors prove over again. More importantly, they do not wish to marry men.

Since that is not an option in this time period, this relationship, despite its complexity, is the one place they can feel seen. It is a beautiful and tragic detail, one that has stuck with me in the weeks since I finished the novel.

I still unfortunately closed this book believing Isa and Eva's relationship would fail. I desperately want an epilogue to tell me how they tried, how they handled the dark days, if anyone ever suspected them, if Eva ever truly owned the house. In some ways this makes the book feel unfinished, which may be the point.

I’ll never know. There is no epilogue. It haunts me, as Eva haunted Isa and the house now haunts them both.