No Such Thing as Monday by Sian Hughes – book review
Daddy`s girl: the sister who stayed
Of survivor’s guilt and sisterly silence
This slim volume packs a hefty punch. Sian Hughes whose earlier novel `Pearl` was longlisted for the Booker Prize, spins a tale that will have the reader so engrossed, they will need to shake themselves out of the book-induced reverie when they finally come to the end.
It`s not a fresh tale, that of a dysfunctional family headed by a violent bully, how some members drown, others live to tell the tale, but Hughes plays her story like a fine-tuned violin, making the most evocative music emerge from it.
Narrated in the first person by the younger Cartwright daughter Stephanie/Steffie, the reader is given a remarkably dry-eyed, unsentimental account of how she stumbles upon her dead father when she comes to his house to give him his lunch. After which we move in non-linear fashion along with Steffie`s suddenly open Pandora`s Box of recollections, and get to know Stan Cartwright who arranged fights (dogfights, cockfights, fights between men) at the local bar/ men`s club. Stan is one nasty piece of work; he has long terrorised his meek and submissive wife into a state of constant fear, he regularly beats up his quiet, intelligent first-born Caroline, while lavishing love on the younger one, Steffie.
He partitions the room the girls share, so that Steffie gets the sole ceiling light while Caroline has to study by the light of the streetlight. He unleashes much love on Steffie, feeding her bread and drippings, while making sure no bread is lift over for either his wife or Caroline. There is an act of cruelty casually remembered without judgement by Steffie, how her father used to peel hardboiled eggs for the two of them, then throw the remaining eggs into the hedge, ensuring the other two members of his family starve.
This is Steffie taking the reader into confidence. After Stan`s death – his wife had preceded him several years ago—Steffie allows herself to admit to a Caroline-shaped hole in her heart; her sister had fled home when she was sixteen and stayed off the radar since then. And the rest of the book details Steffi`s wild life, becoming a drug-runner for a while, doing a stint in prison, all of it seemingly punishment delivered to herself for being Daddy`s favourite, even as she cuts him endless slack; all the while toying with the possibility of a reconciliation with her sister but never quite making a move to find her.
Conflict in the family
The picture the author paints of Caroline Cartwright is a poignant one: pretty, smart, consistently holding good grades, getting admission into a grammar school while Steffie has to settle for the local comprehensive, quiet, well-mannered. An older sister who was protective of Steffie, made her sweet little toys of wool from their worn school uniforms. And now, the older Steffie has to live with dreadful guilt: guilt that she had looked away, been in denial about what was happening to Caroline under the same roof, how she didn’t even register that her elder sister had fled the coop, fled the daily beatings and the starvation.
That state of denial does rather startle the reader at the beginning but Hughes provides such a clear glimpse into Steffie`s heart and psyche that all too soon, the reader begins to understand the immense survivor`s guilt she lives with, as also the fear cloaked in careless affection the `loved child` learns to hide. Stan – her protector, her stalker, her refuge, her threat – clearly moulded her for so long that she struggled to find herself after his death.
The story comes to life on the page, every statement from Steffie a reveal of someone`s character, of someone`s actions. It`s a story of misery, fear, plumbing the depths of life and living, yet holding more than a smidgen of hope. And the voice of Stephanie Cartwright – daddy`s girl who didn’t want to be daddy`s girl –is one that is original, wry, cynical, vulnerable, searingly honest.
The title is explained when Hughes tells the reader to imagine someone asserting that there`s no such thing as Monday, that Tuesday comes after Sunday. And how you learn to skip Monday, not to ever mention it, to keep the peace.
No Such Thing as Monday by Sian Hughes. Picador India.Rs 499.209 pages.
This appeared in TNIE of 20 September 2026.
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