All That Remains

I just finished reading All That Remains by Jane Darby, and honestly, it’s one of those books that grabs you by the heart and doesn’t let go. It tells the story of Anna and Richard, a couple trying to navigate life after losing their only son, Ben, far too soon. The way this story delves into grief, loss, and what it means to keep going is so raw and real that it stayed with me long after I turned the last page.

The book centres on Anna and Richard, who are drifting apart—both from each other and from the life they once knew—after Ben’s death. Right from the start, you can feel the weight of their strained silence. Richard’s a flavour strategist (fancy job, right?), always caught up in work and social stuff, while Anna’s stuck in this fog of grief. They’ve dealt with their loss in completely different ways: Richard’s trying to move on, putting one foot in front of the other, but Anna’s still drowning in it, unable to let go.

A big chunk of the story happens at their country house—Richard calls it “The Lodge,” but Anna’s got this grim nickname for it, “The House of Heads.” It’s an old hunting lodge from the 1930s, and it feels like a character in itself, heavy with its memories. Anna spends her days there, clinging to Ben’s ashes and the past, while Richard’s off in the city, trying to hold his life together. There’s this other thread where Richard ends up hanging out with some younger folks one night, and it’s like a wake-up call for him. It makes him rethink everything—his life, his marriage, the lot. By the end, Anna and Richard start to find their way back to each other, and this quiet sense of hope feels hard-earned.

Jane Darby’s writing is something else. She’s got this knack for noticing the little things—how a touch or a memory can hit you like a ton of bricks. There’s a scene where Anna’s holding Ben’s ashes, lost in thoughts of his soft baby skin, and I swear, I had to put the book down for a minute because it hit me so hard. Even Richard’s night out, which starts almost playful, turns into this deep moment of reckoning that sneaks up on you.

All That Remains is the kind of book that makes you laugh, cry, and sit quietly for a bit, just thinking about life. Jane Darby shows you that even after grief rips you apart, there’s still a chance for love and hope to creep back in. If you’re into stories that feel real, that make you think about the messy, beautiful parts of being human, this one’s for you. I’d recommend it to anyone who wants a read that sticks with them, the kind you’re still thinking about weeks later.