We chat with author Rose Carlyle about No One Will Know, which is a deliciously twisty and suspenseful novel about a desperate young woman and the manipulative wealthy couple who will stop at nothing to ensure their worst nightmare becomes a dream come true. PLUS we have an excerpt to share with you at the end of the interview!
Hi, Rose! Can you tell our readers a bit about yourself?
I was born in New Zealand, and I grew up doing all the things New Zealanders are known for — climbing mountains, swimming at wild surf beaches, sailing yachts. At seventeen, I began law school, and by twenty-one, I was practising law. In my twenties, I married and had three children, and for a long time, life was too busy for me to entertain the idea of writing a novel.
My life changed forever when a friend invited me on a sailing expedition to the Antipodes Islands. He held the government contract to transport scientists to these bleak subantarctic islands to study their unique birdlife. I had never sailed out of sight of land before, but soon, I was setting out on a week-long voyage across the mighty Southern Ocean.
On the return journey, we hit a hurricane-force storm which tore our mainsail in two, but we made it home otherwise intact. Far from being daunted by this fearsome experience, I couldn’t wait to go back. After a second subantarctic voyage, my husband and I bought a yacht and set off across the Indian Ocean with our children. We sailed from Thailand to South Africa, stopping at every port along the way. It was the experience of a lifetime.
Back in New Zealand, I longed to revisit those blissful islands and shining seas, but it wasn’t possible with my work and with our children at high school. Perhaps that’s why I found a way to travel in my imagination — writing. Both of my novels feature gorgeous islands, sleek yachts, and, of course, some devious characters, unimaginable wealth, and murder.
When did you first discover your love for writing and stories?
I’ve wanted to be an author for as long as I can remember. When I was six, I started begging my parents for a typewriter. I was the classic middle child who usually got the same presents as everyone else, so I didn’t hold out much hope, but one day my godfather turned up at our house and presented me with an ancient Remington typewriter. It was one of the most exciting days of my life! I immediately started typing stories. I still have that typewriter today.
Quick lightning round! Tell us:
- The first book you ever remember reading: I Am David by Anne Holm (also known as North to Freedom)
- The one that made you want to become an author: Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
- The one that you can’t stop thinking about: Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Your latest novel, No One Will Know, is out now! If you could only describe it in five words, what would they be?
Fun, escapist, exotic, twisty, exciting!
What can readers expect?
No One Will Know is the story of Eve, a friendless, lonely young woman who receives an out-of-the-blue offer to move to a windswept Australian island and take up a dream job. Her employers, Julia and Christopher, are the perfect couple who seem to have the perfect life. But right from the start, things about the job don’t add up. Soon, Eve is facing life-or-death stakes… I can’t say more!
With No One Will Know, I set out to write a novel that would give readers everything I love in a book. I adore being swept away to beautiful, exotic settings, and so this story is set on a remote island where a wealthy couple have built their dream mansion in the aptly named Paradise Bay. I love books with fast-paced plots and original twists, so I planned this novel around a twist that I think is truly unique and unguessable. I’ve issued a challenge to my readers: If you guess the twist, get in touch with me. No one has yet! Lastly, I love a protagonist that the reader can really root for. My heroine, Eve, makes mistakes, but she has a heart of gold and as the story progresses she grows in strength and courage. I hope readers will love her as much as I do.
Where did the inspiration for No One Will Know come from?
This novel draws inspiration from my grandmother’s incredibly difficult life. My heroine, Eve, emerges from a harsh childhood in state care. At the beginning of the story, she is isolated, vulnerable, and pregnant. As the plot unfolds, Eve taps into a fierce inner strength, driven by her unbreakable love for her child. Eve’s journey mirrors the extraordinary story of my grandmother, Eileen, who, in 1920, was taken into state care. Aged just thirteen, she was taken out of school to work as a maid for a wealthy couple. Despite her hardships and lack of guidance, Eileen became an inspiring mother and grandmother, shaping my life in countless ways. It’s been an absolute joy to bring her spirit to life in Eve’s character.
Were there any moments or characters you really enjoyed writing or exploring?
Yes! Some of the key events in this novel take place at a lighthouse. I’ve always loved lighthouses and their eerie atmosphere. As research for this novel, I travelled to Tasmania and visited the remote Bruny Island and its magnificent lighthouse. It was a highlight to visit such a beautiful place. I fell in love with Tasmania and relished the chance to bring this unique landscape to life for my readers.
This is your second published novel! What are some of the key lessons you learned between working on the two?
When I wrote The Girl in the Mirror, I didn’t realise writing was about to become my new career. I was busy working and raising a family, and writing was a pure joy to me. I had no aspirations of giving up my day job; all I hoped for was to be published and see my book in a bookstore.
The success of my debut was a whirlwind I wasn’t prepared for. The novel was an instant number one bestseller, and my life was suddenly hectic with television appearances, a book tour, and offers coming in from multiple translation territories. I remember being told I had a book-to-film agent fielding interest from Hollywood. It was a very exciting time.
So, I wrote my second novel under very different circumstances, with the expectation that it would now be my full-time job. But the truth is that all the important things about writing remain the same. Whether you’re an unknown or a bestselling author, it’s important to focus on writing a story you love. Writing remains a pleasure to me — and it’s an incredible privilege that I now have much more time to indulge in it.
What’s next for you?
I’m about to set off on a book tour around New Zealand, visiting towns and cities where readers have been incredibly supportive of my previous book. I’m already working on my third novel, which will feature what I hope is becoming my signature — stunning settings, a wild, twisty plot, and fabulously wealthy people behaving badly!
Lastly, what books have you enjoyed so far this year and are there any that you can’t wait to get your hands on?
One of the great things about this career is meeting other authors. My publishers flew me to Australia recently for a conference, where I met Benjamin Stevenson, author of the smash success Everybody in My Family Has Killed Someone. Benjamin, a stand-up comedian, is so funny in person that I knew his book would be a laugh, and it did not disappoint. As for the future, I can’t wait for the next Karen Dionne and the next Joshilyn Jackson. They haven’t been announced yet, but my fingers are crossed for 2025!
Chapter 1
Eve
I’m swimming in a sea of dreams when a kiss pulls me into wakefulness. Xander’s face is an inch from mine, his blue eyes sparkling, sorry-not-sorry for waking me. He’s drawn the blankets over our heads against the cold of early spring, and we’re cocooned in dewy light. How blissful it is to wake and not be alone.
“Morning, beautiful,” he says, kissing me again.
“What time is it?”
Xander laughs. “Very romantic reply, Eve.”
“I don’t want to be late, that’s all. Today’s the big day, and I’m terrible at first impressions. I’m sick with nerves.”
“We don’t need to hurry.” Xander runs his fingers down my spine. “I know just the thing to help you relax.”
Xander and I arrived in Sydney yesterday after sailing down from Fiji, completing the last leg of our six-month Pacific Ocean crossing. As soon as we cleared customs, we taxied to Xander’s apartment, tumbled into bed, and fell instantly asleep.
I love that he brought me to his home. I want every day to start this way. I want to wake up in Xander’s arms every morning for the rest of my life.
Xander nuzzles my neck, his hands roaming over my body. “You’re so gorgeous.”
I refrain from replying that nobody else has ever said so. I haven’t shaken the nagging fear that maybe Xander and I got together during our voyage purely because I was the only woman within hundreds of miles. I’m skinny, with light-green eyes and a complexion so pale that six months sailing across the Pacific haven’t left me with a tan. My one attractive feature is my hair—I’m a redhead, and my hair is unusually dark, almost the color of mahogany.
I roll on top of Xander, and my gaze lands on a framed photo on the bedside table. In the picture, Xander embraces a smiling, tanned blonde—his ex-girlfriend, Charlotte. I guess neither of us noticed the photo last night. Charlotte and Xander broke up before I met him, but I still feel awkward romping in bed with a guy before the photo of his previous girlfriend has been cleared away.
Xander follows my gaze. “My bad.” He shoves the photo in a drawer and turns back to me, taking me in his arms again. “This is our place now, Eve.”
A shrill sound cuts through the air. The landline.
“Ignore it,” says Xander.
The answerphone kicks in. It’s right beside the bed, and the woman’s voice, cool and clipped, kills our vibe in two seconds flat.
“Alexander, it’s Mother. I’ve made a reservation for lunch at Skipper Jack’s at noon. Your father had our driver drop the Lexus at your apartment last night. You’ll find it in the usual spot downstairs. Wear some smart pants and that white linen shirt I gave you for Christmas, and for Heaven’s sake don’t be late. I’ve booked a table for six. Charlotte is coming. She tells me her father is hiring. I think you’re on your last chance with that lovely girl, son. Get a wriggle on, and make sure you iron that shirt.”
She hangs up.
Xander and I stare at each other, frozen. My first instinct is to laugh. Who in the last hundred years, other than the Queen of England, refers to herself as Mother?
My next thought is anything but funny. Xander’s mum has invited his ex-girlfriend to his welcome-home lunch—the ex-girlfriend whose father owns a law firm where Xander’s parents hope he’ll land his first real job.
“I wish you’d told them about us,” I say.
“Let’s talk about them later—”
The phone rings again. Maybe Mother forgot to mention which shoes would look best with that shirt.
This time, Xander doesn’t wait for the answerphone. He leans over, grabs the cord, and yanks it out of the wall.
I’m searching the kitchen for food that isn’t past its expiry date while Xander shaves his sailor’s beard.
“What are you going to tell your parents?” I call, adopting a casual tone. “It sounds like your mother thinks you and Charlotte are still together.”
Xander appears at the kitchen door, half shaven. “You heard me on the phone to Mum back in Mexico. I told her I was single.”
“Is it Mum or Mother?”
Xander points at the fine china I’ve set out for coffee, as though it’s the key to his mother’s character. “Mum likes to pretend. She pretends we call her Mother. She pretends to be a member of some imaginary Australian aristocracy. She probably pretends to all her friends that Charlotte and I are still together, that Charlotte got off the yacht because of seasickness.”
“That is why Charlotte got off the yacht.”
When I met Xander, he was inches away from realizing his lifelong dream. He and Charlotte had recently finished university, and he’d spent a bequest from his grandfather on Joy, a small but sturdy yacht that the owners were selling for a song because nobody wanted to fly to a remote part of Mexico to buy a yacht. Xander and Charlotte did exactly that. They moved on board Joy and set off for Australia as a gap-year adventure. If Charlotte liked the lifestyle, they planned to save money, upsize the yacht, and sail around the world.
But Charlotte did not like the lifestyle. After their maiden voyage down Mexico’s west coast, she broke off their relationship, packed her things, and flew home. I met Xander drowning his sorrows in a village tavern. He considered pulling the plug on his adventure, but with cyclone season approaching, he couldn’t leave Joy in Mexico. He was facing the daunting prospect of solo-sailing all the way home.
On a whim, I offered to join Xander on board. I’d never set foot on a yacht, but I’d been backpacking around Latin America for months, and this sounded like a more interesting way to get home than flying cattle class. It wasn’t like I had anything to rush back to. My parents died in a freak storm in New Zealand when I was four. After a year in foster care, I moved to a small town in Western Australia to live with Nanna, my sole surviving relative, but she died of cancer when I was sixteen. For the past six years, I’ve moved around a lot. What gave me faith in Xander was that he was honest about the downsides of sailing—the uncertain time frame and the discomfort of bad weather—even though his chances of finding another willing idiot were minuscule.
“Charlotte and I broke up,” Xander says now. “She can’t expect me to come crawling back. She sure won’t after you turn up at this lunch. I can’t wait to introduce you to the olds. They’ll love you.” He runs a hand through my hair, as if to suggest his parents will adore it as much as he does.
A glob of shaving foam lands on the kitchen floor. I shoo Xander back to the bathroom. At times I think my boyfriend is bonkers. No way will his family be happy to swap Charlotte, daughter of a partner in a prestigious law firm, and beautiful to boot, for little old me.
Xander said his mum pretends to be aristocratic, but his parents’ wealth is real. This stunning apartment belongs to them. The building was originally a church, and the exterior stone wall stands in bold contrast to the modern lines of the interior. In the morning sunshine, the stained-glass window fills the living room with blue light, making it feel like a magical underwater cave.
When Xander reappears, I hand him the beans. “You’re on coffee duty. It’d take me days to figure out how to use this machine.”
He grins.
“Your mum booked a table for six,” I say, leaping onto a barstool and crossing my legs. “That’s your parents, your sister and her husband, and you and Charlotte. Three cozy couples. Will the restaurant be able to fit an extra person?”
“They’ll squeeze you in.”
This doesn’t sound promising.
“Xander, I don’t think it’s the right time for me to meet your family, especially with Charlotte there. You should go without me. I can’t turn up in my grotty travel clothes, anyway.”
“We’ll buy you something to wear.” Xander passes me a steaming cup of espresso. It looks delicious, but when I raise it to my lips, it smells off.
“I spent my last dollar on our groceries in Fiji.” The thought of my dire financial situation sends a new wave of stress through me. I sold most of my belongings, even the sewing machine I used in my dressmaking business, to go traveling. In Fiji, not only did I run out of money, but I also lost my phone overboard. Xander is in a tight spot, too. His parents have told him they won’t give him any more money, and they want him to start paying rent on this apartment.
“We have five hundred bucks.” Xander reaches into his pocket and pulls out the fistful of bills he exchanged yesterday.
“That’s all the money you’ve got. You can’t splurge on new clothes.”
“You’re right.” Xander hands me the money. “You keep it. You’ll make it last till one of us gets a job.”
I pocket the cash. “Could we drive to my old flat and get my dresses?”
“The ones you designed? I do want to see them, but there isn’t time to drive to Parramatta. Whale Beach is an hour north of here, and Mum hates tardiness.” Xander gestures at my untouched coffee. “What’s wrong? Is it nerves?”
“I guess. I just know I’m going to mispronounce my order or . . . I don’t know . . . knock over my wineglass.”
I place the coffee on the bench and walk to the stained-glass window. In the distance, the bridge arches over the sparkling water of Sydney Harbor.
The truth is my belly is a nest of vipers. Xander doesn’t seem to have noticed, but I don’t talk the same as he and Mother. Xander has a law degree, while I didn’t finish high school. When Nanna died, my options were either to move into a foster home to complete my schooling or to find a job and roommates. I’d already lived in two foster homes after my parents died—the authorities had had trouble locating any relatives. I sure didn’t want that again. I’ve been supporting myself with my sewing ever since.
Not to mention that I’ve moved around so many times in my life that I don’t belong anywhere. In my late teens I moved to New Zealand, wanting to reconnect with my homeland, but after a year I was lured to Sydney by higher wages. As soon as I’d saved enough money, I set off backpacking around Latin America. Xander’s parents are unlikely to be impressed by my vagabond lifestyle.
Xander comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “It might be easier for me if you stayed here today, but it would be a mistake. We need to show my family we’re serious. That we’re a couple.”
I sigh, then give him a kiss on the cheek before going to take a shower while he sorts through six months of mail.
As we make our way down to the basement parking garage, Xander uncoils a key from his key ring and hands it to me. “This can be your key.”
I slip it into my pocket. Your key. Xander’s given me his key and his money. As he leads me to the Lexus, my anxiety floats away. He’s committed to me. His parents will see that. If today goes well, perhaps I’ll start to feel I belong to a family again, something I’ve missed every day of the six years since I lost Nanna.
We drive out of the parking garage into fresh sunshine. I’m wearing the best clothes I could come up with—a sage-green T-shirt and tan cargo pants. As we cruise over the Harbor Bridge, I open the glove box, and a brochure for Skipper Jack’s slips out. Beneath a photo of a bride and groom, the tagline reads: The perfect venue for your special day.
“Xander, we’re going to a wedding venue,” I say. “Is your mother hoping to scope out the place for you and Charlotte?”
“Uh, that’s probably an old brochure from when my sister got married.”
I run over the names of Xander’s family in my head—his sister, Lauren, her husband, Niccolò. “What do I call your parents? Mr. and Mrs. Blair or Richard and Patricia?”
Xander snorts. “Dickie and Trish. Don’t be all respectful, or they’ll go for the jugular.”
Whoa. Being polite is a bad strategy? What sort of people are they?
“Xander, I can’t believe how relaxed you are. And I just don’t understand why Charlotte would come. You broke up months ago. Won’t this be awkward for her?”
He shrugs. “There’s no point objecting when it comes to my mother. She does what she wants, no matter what other people say. Charlotte’s probably coming because it’s easier than trying to say no to Patricia Blair. Don’t worry. When we get there, I plan to make it clear to Charlotte how I feel, without letting Mum interfere.”
I wish we could turn this car around. How does Xander plan to stop his mother interfering? “This sounds like a recipe for disaster. Even if your parents get over me, Charlotte won’t. Her dad won’t hire you, and your plan to buy a bigger yacht will go down the drain.”
“I’ll get some other job,” says Xander. “Anyway, I only wanted to upsize the yacht for Charlotte. She’s used to luxury. You and I can sail around the world in Joy as soon as we’ve saved enough for living expenses.”
“Because I’m not used to luxury?” I joke.
Xander gives me a sidelong smile. “We can save up for a superyacht if you like.”
“You know I’m just messing with you. I’d be happy with a driftwood raft.”
“I reckon. You wouldn’t even get seasick.”
It’s hard to believe I was afraid Xander would dump me when we reached Sydney. When we were sailing, we were too caught up in the day-to-day magic of our adventure to talk about the future much. Now he’s treating our dream of sailing around the world together as a settled thing.
“Have you ever wondered where you would be now if I did get seasick? Or if Charlotte didn’t?” I ask as we leave the city behind and Xander steers the Lexus onto a road bordered by eucalyptus. The sight of so much greenery is a stark change after months at sea.
“You were seasick, remember, on our last leg down to Sydney. You were throwing up every morning.”
I feel as though I’m thinking straight for the first time since we left Fiji—probably because last night was my first full night’s sleep since then. Xander’s words set off alarm bells. “You’re right. I was fine all the way across the Pacific, and then suddenly I couldn’t keep breakfast down.”
“You felt okay this morning, now we’re on land, right?” Xander’s tone changes.
“I do feel a little off.”
“Eve, you’re not pregnant? Are you late?”
My hand moves to my belly. “It’s different when you’re traveling. I’ve barely had a cycle since Mexico.”
“We were in rough weather the last fortnight,” says Xander, “and you’re nervous about meeting my parents. I’m sure that’s all it is.”
He glances at me, his blue eyes full of wonder. What else do I see? If I am just a holiday romance, this is the moment I’ll see it in his eyes.
I’ve got the words ready. I feel different. It’s not just nerves.
I can’t say them. I can’t bear for things to change between us. Maybe that’s why it happens, because I pause, because I’m afraid to speak, and Xander has taken his eyes off the road.
