This Character Traits post features Maddie, who is in the recently released novel, If I Were You. The book’s author, Helen Matthews, is known for her page-turning psychological suspense novels that explore the darker edges of human nature. A fan of Helen’s books, I look forward to diving into this one. Here. I will let Helen take over on this post.
Who is the featured character of your novel, If I Were You?
If I Were You centres on two sisters, Tessa (the elder) and Maddie (five years younger). At the time the story takes place, Tessa is thirty-three years old, married, and suffering from a debilitating illness that means she’s about to be fired from her successful career. The novel opens in Tessa’s voice and she controls the narrative right through to chapter 29 where the storytelling baton passes to Maddie. By this point, we already know Tessa quite well though we don’t know if she’s an unreliable narrator. But everything we know about Maddie has been filtered through her sister’s point of view. So, I thought it would be more interesting to talk about Maddie in this piece.
Maddie and Tessa have been estranged for three years following a massive fight at their mum’s funeral. Maddie’s boyfriend back then was a rock musician, Brett, who struggled with addiction. It was Brett who caused the bust-up. Tessa’s husband, Adam, ordered him and Maddie to leave their house. What Tessa didn’t know was that she would lose touch with her sister and be unable to find her. But then Maddie turns up on Tessa’s London doorstep, with a baby, and begs her sister for help.
So why did Maddie walk out of her sister’s life? While with Brett she lived a nomadic life in short-term rentals and squats, working in menial jobs. They didn’t do social media and fell off the radar. As Maddie’s story unfolds, we see how Maddie’s childhood was damaged by a father who always judged her harshly, comparing her unfavourably to her successful older sister and wanting to mould Maddie to be more like Tessa. Maddie turned rebellious, dropped out of university and saw herself as a failure. She set out on a self-destructive path, looking for love in the wrong places and attracted to men who want to dominate or control her. The consequences prove terrifying for her sister, her son and herself. Because Maddie is about to repeat her disappearing stunt all over again. And this time she leaves baby Leon behind.
But Maddie is far from helpless. And she’s not truthful either, but she is inventive and resilient. On her journey through the story she begins to understand herself, how to protect baby Leon and how to heal. But before her life can change for the better she will have to fight to the death to save her son. Will she succeed or will it be too late?
How did you come up with the character and his/her name?
Choosing the right name is a huge deal for me and my main characters’ initial names rarely survive to the final edit. As characters develop, they grow into (or out of) their names. Maddie’s original name when I started If I Were Youwas Sophie. That’s a beautiful name but it felt too feminine and didn’t suit her. Maddie is actually a strong character though that isn’t obvious at first. After trying various different names I settled on Maddie as more reflective of her personality.
I didn’t come up with Maddie’s character in isolation. I needed two sisters because one of the themes I wanted to explore in If I Were You is my fascination with the idea of a life swap. I don’t mean those freak show life swaps staged for reality TV where couples from different backgrounds exchange homes with complete strangers and act out in a way that’s hyped up for a TV audience. I’m thinking of quirks of fate that come out of nowhere and change someone’s life instantly. In real life this tends to happen following a death or tragedy. Another family member has to step up to care for a child in a way they’d never envisaged. Their own life is derailed with no warning. As well as (hopefully) delivering a fast-moving page-turner, I wanted to examine how this would play out when it happens in If I Were You.
Tell us more about If I Were You.
My elevator pitch for If I Were You was ‘Gone Girl meets The Handmaid’s Tale and every novel about sisters you’ve ever read.’
My publisher didn’t pick up that idea in their publicity for the book! Ha, ha – I wonder why?
Many authors, me included, find writing a synopsis or blurb the trickiest part of the process. We’re so close to our work, and we like to wrap it up in mystery, twists and reveals so laying out the bare bones of the story is hard. So here’s a summary I’ve taken from the publisher’s press release:
Dark, emotionally charged and sharply observed, this compelling novel explores sisterhood, manipulation, and the terrifying consequences of believing the wrong person.
When Tessa, reclusive and struggling with long Covid and depression, is unexpectedly reunited with her estranged younger sister Maddie, she is drawn into a crisis she never anticipated. But Maddie’s account is riddled with inconsistencies. As flashbacks surface and unsettling details emerge, Tessa begins to question what is real and what has been carefully constructed. When Maddie vanishes, leaving her baby behind, Tessa is forced to confront a devastating possibility: that the truth she’s been told may place them all in terrible danger.
Taut, unsettling, and impossible to put down, If I Were You is a standout psychological thriller that asks how well we can ever truly know the people we love — and how far loyalty can stretch before it breaks.
Was a real person your inspiration for this character?
I never invent characters based on anyone I know but one of the novels I wrote before If I Were You has the actual title The Sisters. As an older sister, I’ve always been fascinated by the dynamic between sisters and how two girls brought up in the same family can view their childhood through such different prisms.
When that previous ‘Sisters’ novel was published, I told my sister, Fran, ‘My new novel is about two sisters but they’re not based on us. But if you think that they are, I’m the bad one.’ To which Fran replied, ‘Well, that’s no surprise. You’ve had a lifetime of practice.’
Is your character likable or not?
At different points in the story, we might be shocked or horrified by Maddie’s behaviour and the terrible choices she makes. We might call her weak, reckless or foolish for trusting the wrong people. At one point she asks Tessa for money and is given a generous amount but she sneaks back into Tess’s bedroom later and steals more. And what sort of mother would abandon her son?
Maddie has her demons but she’s a fighter. She might not be likeable in the usual sense of the word but I hope readers will come to understand and admire her.
Extract from If I Were You.
Tessa
Rat-tat-tat. Someone is hammering on my front door. Soon it will be Christmas, not that we’ll be celebrating this year, but if a delivery driver thinks I’m going to run downstairs to answer his knock, he can forget it. I lie rigid, waiting for him to push off. Footsteps retreat down the path. Not the flat-footed tramp of our postman – a lighter tread. A car door slams. Whoever it was, they’re leaving.
Minutes later a shrill ringing makes me jump. It’s as if someone has glued their finger to the doorbell and won’t give up. Miraculously, the cottonwool fog that lives inside my head has cleared as I stumble to the window, lift a corner of the curtain and peer out. Our porch has a decorative lead canopy so I can’t see who’s on the step, but an unfamiliar blue car is parked outside, its passenger door open. I push up the sash window to tell them to get lost but the infernal ringing continues.
In the bathroom, I splash my face with water and tug a brush through my hair. My natural colour is dark blonde and I used to lighten it, but now it’s brassy with six inches of darker roots. Yesterday’s underwear is balled-up inside a pair of jogging bottoms where I lobbed them last night, aiming for the laundry basket. I’ll wear them again with the t-shirt I’ve been sleeping in. Pulling on an Aran sweater, I head downstairs.
I stomp along the hall and yank the door open. “What the…?”
Through a chill December mist, a young woman with kohl-rimmed eyes, blonde hair and a pale face, stares at me. She’s wearing a thin pink cardigan over a faded black t-shirt and ripped jeans. As her hand drops from the bell, I notice it’s trembling.
“Maddie?” I reach out and touch her, checking she’s real and won’t disappear again.
She nods, tight-lipped.
“Well, come in.”
Turning, she points at the blue car with its wide-open door. “I must fetch Leon.”
“Who’s Leon?” Another deadbeat boyfriend? The last one, Brett, was so deep into addiction that I’d be amazed if he were still around.
“My son.” She lifts her chin, challenging me. I’m speechless. She’ll be twenty-eight now, but she’s almost a stranger. My sister has a son.
The image I keep inside my head is of a smiling teenaged Maddie, but the last time I saw her, three years ago at Mum’s funeral, she was scowling and angry. The wake was at our house with a few neighbours and people from Mum’s church. Maddie’s partner Brett was staggering around our kitchen, drunk, while she wrapped salmon and cucumber sandwiches in napkins and stuffed them into her backpack. Then Brett told the vicar to piss off. My husband, Adam stepped forward, lips curling with contempt, and ordered Maddie to get the fuck out of our house and take her lowlife bloke with her.
He was acting to protect me, but it was an emotional day. Maddie and I had become orphans with no other close relatives. I wasn’t expecting my sister to walk out of my life and break off communication.
Watching her fluid stride as she walks to her car and leans inside, my love for her comes flooding back. She unbuckles a strap, lifts out a child’s car seat and carries it carefully up the path. The baby’s wrapped in a snowsuit and woollen hat with a white blanket tucked around him.
As I close the door, a sharp wind catches the vase of white roses Adam brought me last weekend and scatters petals on the floor. I stoop to gather them in my hand, hoping Maddie doesn’t notice me gasping for breath as I get to my feet. She’s walked ahead into the kitchen, which we’ve extended since she was last here. New bi-fold doors frame a view of the garden, which we had landscaped, doing away with the lawn. The Japanese acer has shed its scarlet leaves, and in winter we stare out on rills of water trickling over black slate. It looks bleak and feels like a waste of money. Maddie doesn’t even notice.
Dropping the rose petals into the bin, I point to a corner sofa, upholstered in child-unfriendly yellow velvet. “Put his seat on there and prop some cushions round it.”
“Thanks, but he’s safer on the floor.”
I’m dying to have a proper look at this child – my nephew – a new relative in my depleted family. Feeling warm inside, I wait while she settles him and boil the kettle to make her a coffee. She was never keen on tea. But perhaps she’s changed. Who knows what Maddie’s been doing these past three years? If Adam and I had moved house, we might never have seen each other again. Maddie doesn’t use social media and moved from the flat in Southsea, where she and Brett were living, without giving me her new address. When I phoned, her number was unrecognised. Her absence has lodged like a dull ache under my ribcage.
“Here you go.” I hand her the mug. She’s cross-legged on the floor, gazing at her son with that rapt expression you see in Madonna-and-Child paintings. I squat down to peer at him. A woollen hat is pulled down so I can’t see his hair colour or if he has any. Dark eyelashes, closed eyelids and pinkish lips that quiver as he breathes. I can tell he’s some way on from being a newborn.
As we sip our drinks, Maddie briefly glances at the glass-fronted units and central island with its soft task lighting and gleaming quartz surfaces.
“It’s lovely to see you. Lucky I was at home so you didn’t have a wasted journey.” I’m always at home, but now isn’t the time to mention my illness.
She shrugs. “I figured you’d be here. Working from home and on Zoom or whatever. Isn’t that what bosses like you do these days? It’s only worker bees who still have to commute into offices.” Her eyes narrow, and not in a friendly way.
I glance down at my casual clothes and Aran sweater. Is this how I’d dress for working from home and dialling into videoconferences? During lockdowns we used to joke that no one cared what you wore from the waist down. “How far have you come?” I ask, refusing to be offended.
“Not far enough.” Maddie unfolds her limbs from her cross-legged position and stands. “We need your help, Tessa.” Her lower lip trembles as if she’s on the edge of tears.
I gape at her. As if misconstruing my silence, she lashes out. “If you’re not too busy with work and your effing perfect life.” As she lifts her right arm her sleeve rolls back, and I notice a scar and recent bruising on her wrist.
“What happened to you?” I touch her arm, but she shakes my hand off roughly.
“Nothing. That scar is an old one. Tell me – yes or no. Can Leon and I stay here for a while?”
“Yes, I suppose… I mean, I’ll have to talk to Adam…”
Her face crumples, as if she can’t keep up the bravado she’s been faking. “We’re in real danger, Tessa. Please say you’ll help us. I’ve no one else to turn to.”
Author’s Bio
Helen writes page-turning psychological suspense novels and is fascinated by the darker side of human nature and how a life can change in an instant. She is the author of four published novels. Her new suspense thriller If I Were You has recently been published by DP Books. Previous novels have won prizes, including the opening pages of a novel award at Winchester Writers’ Festival and the suspense and thriller genre prize in the 2022 Pageturner Book Award.
Born in Cardiff, Helen read English at the University of Liverpool and worked in international development, consultancy and human resources. She has an MA in Creative Writing from Oxford Brookes University.
Some of Helen’s novels cover themes of human trafficking and she has been appointed an Ambassador for the charity, Unseen UK, which works towards a world without slavery. She donates her author talk fees, and a percentage of royalties, to the charity.
Book Links
If I Were You https://mybook.to/IfIwereyou
Social Media Links
https://www.helenmatthewswriter.com
https://www.Instagram.com/helen.matthews7