I Let You Go

Jenna’s preoccupation with the broken door at her little Penfach cottage seems like an abstract manifestation of her emotional trauma at first. The audience is not aware of how acutely the door represents danger to her. For townspeople like her landlord, Iestyn, a broken door is no big deal because no one steals anything in this town. It is “safe.” He says, “There’s no one would be stealing anything around here” (171). Jenna’s insistence on having the door fixed is out of the ordinary in that context. Yet once readers understand that Jenna has a true reason to fear a very specific person, that door becomes much more threatening. Indeed, Ian uses it to gain entry to her place and inflict more violence upon her. Ironically, its only when Ian actually does break through the door that Jenna can face her aggressor and move forward in her life, implying that the security the lock offers is only illusory.

Readers first learn of the small blue business card when Jenna is relinquishing her belongings upon being entered into custody, and Kate notices the card and takes it. It isn’t until close to the end of the book that they understand its significance. Jenna is given the card by a medical practitioner who, when she goes in for an ultrasound, sees her bruises. Ian, noticing the card, tries to find it: “Later that day, when you fell asleep, I went through your notes, looking for the blue business card with the round logo, but it wasn’t there” (364). Mags, Ray’s wife, is the one who realizes what the logo is: a person with arms encircling another. When she makes that identification, it sets a lightbulb off in Ray’s head, and he realizes “I’ve got it all wrong” (375). Ray realizes, thanks to another investigation, that the card is from a women’s refuge for victims of domestic violence. It is this realization that helps him finally put the pieces together and solve the mystery. Thus, the card is important to the police. But for Jenna, who never actually used the card because the refuge was still too close to Ian, it was a symbol that help was out there if she ever needed it. When the officers confront her with it, she says, “I felt a little less alone for having it” (403). 

Rendered in such striking descriptive language as to become a well-developed motif in itself, the natural beauty of Wales is a real presence in this novel. When Jenna first arrives in Wales, she thinks, “It is the perfect place for a new beginning” (40). Not only do the new surroundings provide solace and a new home without any lingering memories, they also provide her a new means of making a living now that her hand has been injured. The landscape plays a role other parts of the narrative as well; in showing Patrick’s goodness, for example, as he assists in water rescues. The dangers of the sea are focused upon specifically in this section. And the location of Jenna’s final struggle with Ian, along a coastal path on the headlands, allows Jenna to rescue herself at the end as she pushes Ian away from her and over a cliff into the dangerous undertow. Therefore, the chaos of the sea offers both danger and the promise of renewal.

There are two young children in the novel: the unborn child of Ian and Jenna, which he kills prior to its birth, and Jacob, the dead five-year-old boy. There are two animals as well: the kitten Gizmo, which Ian kills, and Beau, the dog that Jenna saves. In I Let You Go, these creatures are all victims that supply proof of Ian’s horrific inhumanity. He thinks nothing of killing smaller, more vulnerable creatures as long as he gets what he wants. These prior killings make readers fear for Beau’s life in several scenes where the dog is present. But, as a symbol of Jenna’s recovery and of starting over, Beau gets to live.