I Let You Go

Instantaneous what-ifs are rife in this novel. The author puts her characters into numerous situations in which quick decisions are made that, had they been decided differently, would have introduced momentous changes into the character’s life.

For example, had one of the most important scenes in the book turned out differently, that event could have changed the entire course of several lives; Jenna might never have left if Ian hadn’t killed the boy. Ian narrates, “They were crossing the road. My head pounded. You whimpered and the sound was like a fly, buzzing in my ear. I pushed the accelerator flat to the floor” (428). In that situation, Ian’s actions might have been modified if he hadn’t recognized Anya, if he hadn’t gotten so angry at Jenna’s imagined affair, if he hadn’t taken the wheel of the car, or even if Jenna hadn’t made a noise at that exact moment.

At the final conflict between Ian and Jenna, taking the turn to the caravan park as she meant to or running instead of fighting back at him might also have led to a much different conclusion to the narrative. Momentary decisions lead to Jenna’s rescue of Beau and introduction to Patrick, and to her coming to Penfach in the first place. Readers are left wondering what might have happened if Jenna had reacted differently to Ian during his violent episodes, too.

These split-second decisions aren’t limited to the main story, either. Ray experiences certain opportunities to buck authority or submit to it; he chose in several instances to prioritize work over his family life. The book additionally depicts several situations in which he could have chosen Kate over his wife, including the end when he chooses to go home to Mags instead of having a fun meal with Kate and the police officers at Swansea: “Ray imagined them leaving the Swansea boys after the curry, perhaps having a nightcap somewhere, then walking back to the hotel. He swallowed, imagining what might happen after that” (438). And he tells Kate, “Some other time” (438). Additionally, the audience is left wondering what might have happened had he been paying more attention to his son at home. Author Mackintosh calls these “Sliding Doors” moments, based on the romantic comedy from 1998 which alternates between timelines that diverged when a character catches or doesn’t catch a train. They are fascinating because they allow one to speculate on alternate timelines and fates, and how lives are affected by split-second decisions that may seem unimportant at the time. 

I Let You Go can be a difficult, dark piece of literature to read because of the levels of violence in it, especially within the second half of the book. There is rape; there is beating; there is sadistic torture. Two children die—one in a vicious car crash, one through miscarriage when Ian hits Jenna while she is pregnant. Ian also kills a helpless kitten. He forces Jenna to rub bleach all over herself and pushes her down stairs. He punches her, he burns her with a cigarette, and he forces her to have sex in multiple circumstances.

When there isn’t outright violence and torture, Ian uses manipulation and emotional abuse to control and isolate his victim. The killing of the kitten, and his subsequent blaming of Jenna for causing the kitten’s death, is an illustration of this. So is the scene in which he returns Jenna’s Ford Fiesta with a recording of his voice, he frightens her: “He’s taunting me, the singsong pace of the vow I made so many years ago at odds with the coldness in his voice. He is insane. I can see that now, and it terrifies me now to think of the years I spent lying next to him, not knowing what he was truly capable of” (350).

With these types of statements, and through symbols such as intangible threats written in the sand and the vulnerability of the broken door, the author creates an expectant tension so as to infuse the narrative with a suspenseful atmosphere. All of this has a purpose, however, beyond creating a thrilling novel which lives up to the expectations of readers who pick it up. By building up such anticipation and exposing Ian as such a wicked man with no boundaries, author Mackintosh is able to convey the level of abuse and despair that Jenna has experienced.

Only through this contrast do readers understand how much she has to recover from, and how important her recovery journey is. This is also an effective way of showing readers how deep Jenna’s scars will run, no matter how far away from Ian she is able to get—a display that makes the threat at the end of the book, in which Jenna can still see her name etched on the sand, that much more effective.