As a long-time fan of Matt Wesolowski, this one stings a little to say, but (Don’t) Call Mum didn’t quite land for me.
We follow Leo on a short, dread-soaked train ride to Malacstone in North East England. To home. At under 100 pages, this novella should have packed a punch. And to its credit, it does build a thick, ominous atmosphere from the start. That classic Wesolowski unease is present: you feel the wrongness pulsing beneath the surface, a quiet hum of doom with every turn of the page. There’s something profoundly unsettling about how normal everything is. An almost empty train slowly moving in the night. A few strange details that feel just off-kilter enough to make you lean in closer. It’s that liminal weirdness, almost mundane, almost real, that Wesolowski usually excels at.
But while the setup is effective and I was all in on the creeping tension, the payoff didn’t deliver. The ending felt rushed, and instead of pulling me deeper, it left me at arm’s length. It’s a lot of tell, not show, which dulled the emotional impact. I turned the final page thinking, “That’s it?”—not out of shock, but out of unmet expectations.
That said, it’s still worth a read if you’re already a fan. The atmosphere will stick with you after the story itself fades, and it’s short enough to finish in one sitting. Just… don’t start your Wesolowski journey here. This isn’t the one to hook you. Go for Demon or Deity, they’re the ones that truly show what he’s capable of.
Peek-A-Book 