Wintering

'Who is this please?'

'Jessica. Jessica Weir.'

'I'm sorry, miss, but this was the last number-'

'Matthew's on his way home. From work. He's late. He should be home soon.'

And only the ocean breathing into the silence as if her own chest were rising and falling without fail. As if his heart were still beating. As if nothing in the world had changed.

'We've found a car, miss, but there's no sign of a driver.'

When Jessica's partner disappears into the dark Tasmanian forest, there is of course the mystery of what happened to him-the deserted car, the enigmatic final image recorded on his phone. There is the strange circle of local women, widows of disappeared men, with their edgy fellowship and unhinged theories. And the forest itself: looming hugely over this tiny settlement on the remote tip of the island.

But for Jessica there is also the tight community in which she is still a stranger and Matthew was not. What secrets do they know about her own life, that she doesn't. And why do they believe things that should not-cannot-be true. For her own sanity, Jessica needs to know two things.
Who was Matthew? And who-or what-has he become?