The Pact in the Kitchen

After Kay's father's long, degrading decline, Kay and Cyril Wilkinson, a married couple in their early fifties, sit in their London kitchen, exhausted by years of eldercare. The experience leaves them both dreading the prospect of their own old age. Cyril, a GP, proposes a radical solution: when Kay turns eighty, they will end their lives together, sparing themselves and their children the indignities and burdens of extreme senescence. Kay is initially shocked but, after witnessing her mother's early signs of dementia, agrees. The pact is sealed, and a black soap-dish box containing the means for their exit is hidden in the fridge. The agreement becomes a silent, ever-present undercurrent in their marriage, shaping their future decisions and the way they view time.

Eighty Means Eighty

The years pass, and the pact becomes a structuring force in Kay and Cyril's lives. They plan their finances, careers, and even their relationships with their children around the knowledge that their time is finite. The black box in the fridge is a constant, silent reminder. As they age, they watch their parents' slow declines, support their children through adulthood, and reinvent themselves—Kay as an interior designer, Cyril as a writer and activist. The approach of Kay's eightieth birthday looms, transforming ordinary days into precious, measured experiences. The couple rarely speaks of the pact, but it shapes every choice, from spending habits to how they relate to the world's news.

Countdown to D-Day

As Kay's eightieth birthday approaches, both she and Cyril become hyper-aware of the passage of time. Every dinner, every walk, every family visit is weighed for its significance. Kay is torn between panic and paralysis, questioning what is truly worth her remaining days. Cyril, meanwhile, throws himself into political activism, especially the Brexit debate, as a distraction from the impending end. The couple's conversations grow more fraught, oscillating between philosophical musings and mundane concerns. The world outside—Brexit, the rise of populism, and eventually the COVID-19 pandemic—mirrors their private uncertainty, making the idea of a fixed end both more absurd and more urgent.

The Last Last Supper

On the night of Kay's eightieth birthday, the Wilkinsons prepare what they believe will be their last meal together. The evening is filled with nostalgia, confessions, and a strange sense of levity. They reminisce about their life, their children, and the world's unfinished stories. The pandemic has isolated them from family and friends, making their planned exit feel both more intimate and more lonely. As midnight approaches, they confront their doubts, regrets, and the meaning of their pact. The act of cleaning up after dinner becomes a metaphor for their desire to leave the world in order, even as they prepare to leave it behind.

Brexit and Bedpans

The Wilkinsons' private decision to "leave" life is mirrored by the UK's public debate over Brexit. Cyril's activism against Brexit becomes a stand-in for his struggle against mortality, while Kay's secret Leave vote reveals the complexity of their relationship. The couple's arguments about politics, aging, and the state of the NHS reflect broader societal anxieties about decline, responsibility, and the meaning of belonging. The Brexit deadline, like their own, is repeatedly postponed, introducing the possibility that no ending is ever truly final. The couple's story becomes a microcosm of a nation wrestling with its own future.

The Black Soap-Dish Box

The black box in the fridge, containing the means for their suicide, becomes a powerful symbol throughout the years. It represents both agency and dread—a way to avoid the fate of their parents, but also a constant reminder of mortality. The box is moved, hidden, and sometimes forgotten, but it is never truly out of mind. Its presence shapes the couple's sense of time, their relationship to each other, and their understanding of what it means to have control over one's destiny. As the deadline approaches, the box's significance grows, embodying both hope for a dignified end and the terror of following through.

Parallel Endings

The novel explores a series of alternate endings for Kay and Cyril, each a meditation on the possibilities and limitations of choice. In some versions, they go through with their pact; in others, they are interrupted, change their minds, or are prevented by circumstance. Some endings are tragic, others farcical, and some unexpectedly hopeful. The narrative structure itself becomes a commentary on the unpredictability of life and the illusion of control. Each ending offers a different answer to the question: Should we stay, or should we go?

The Care Home Trap

In one possible future, Kay and Cyril are sectioned by their children and placed in a care home against their will. The experience is dehumanizing and infantilizing, stripping them of autonomy and dignity. The care home is depicted as a place of boredom, neglect, and quiet despair, where the elderly are warehoused and forgotten. Attempts to escape are met with punishment, and the couple's relationship is strained by the loss of privacy and control. The care home becomes a metaphor for society's failure to deal honestly and compassionately with aging and death.

Escape Attempts

Faced with the indignities of institutionalization, Kay and Cyril plot various escapes—some comic, some desperate. Disguises, alliances with sympathetic staff, and even a Smurf parade are employed in their attempts to regain agency. Each escape attempt is both a literal and symbolic struggle against the forces that seek to contain and define them. The repeated failures and small victories highlight the resilience of the human spirit, but also the ultimate futility of resisting time and decline. The couple's love and partnership are tested and reaffirmed in the crucible of adversity.

The Price of Longevity

In another speculative future, a drug is developed that halts aging and cures all age-related diseases. Society is transformed: care homes close, pensions become obsolete, and the generations become indistinguishable. At first, the world celebrates, but new problems arise—overpopulation, ennui, and a loss of purpose. The Wilkinsons, now eternally youthful, find that infinite time does not guarantee happiness or meaning. Relationships become fluid, ambition wanes, and even love is tested by the absence of mortality. The dream of eternal life is revealed to be as fraught as the fear of death.

Futures Imagined, Futures Lost

The novel's structure allows for the exploration of multiple possible futures: economic collapse, mass migration, environmental catastrophe, and even a hive-mind society where individuality is lost. In each scenario, the Wilkinsons' choices and experiences are refracted through the lens of history, chance, and the limits of human foresight. The multiplicity of endings underscores the impossibility of knowing what lies ahead, and the futility of trying to plan for every contingency. The only certainty is uncertainty itself.

The World Without Us

As the Wilkinsons prepare for their end, they reflect on what they will leave behind: children, grandchildren, a house, memories, and a world that will go on without them. They grapple with the fear of being forgotten, the desire to be remembered well, and the realization that legacy is ultimately out of their hands. The act of planning their own memorial service becomes both a comfort and a source of anxiety, as they try to shape the narrative of their lives even as it slips beyond their control. The world's indifference is both liberating and terrifying.

The Children's Intervention

The Wilkinsons' children, each with their own flaws and grievances, become central players in the drama of their parents' final years. When Kay and Cyril's suicide pact is discovered, the children intervene—out of love, fear, or self-interest—leading to conflict, resentment, and unintended consequences. The generational divide is laid bare, as the children struggle to understand their parents' choices and the parents confront the reality of being seen as burdens. The family's attempts to protect, control, or save each other reveal the complexities of love and the impossibility of perfect understanding.

The End of Always

In the end, whether by choice, chance, or circumstance, the Wilkinsons must confront the reality that no life can be perfectly managed or ended on one's own terms. The fantasy of a clean, dignified exit gives way to the messiness of real endings—regret, relief, love, and loss. The couple's final moments are marked by a sense of peace, not because they have solved the problem of aging or death, but because they have accepted the limits of control and the inevitability of letting go. The meaning of "enough" becomes clear only at the end.

The Final Farewell

The Wilkinsons' story concludes with a final act of love and courage. Whether they die together as planned, are separated by fate, or simply fade away, their journey is marked by tenderness, humor, and a deep sense of partnership. The last supper, the last dance, the last kiss—all become rituals of closure and affirmation. The couple's legacy is not in the avoidance of pain or the achievement of immortality, but in the way they faced the end: together, honestly, and with as much grace as they could muster.

The Meaning of Enough

Throughout their lives, Kay and Cyril wrestle with the question of when to say "enough"—enough work, enough striving, enough life. The pursuit of more—more time, more experiences, more control—proves both exhilarating and exhausting. In the end, the wisdom of knowing when to stop, to rest, to let go, is revealed as the greatest challenge and the greatest gift. The couple's story becomes a meditation on the art of enough: how to recognize it, how to accept it, and how to celebrate it.

Love in the Time of Decay

At the heart of the novel is the enduring love between Kay and Cyril—a love tested by time, illness, disappointment, and the specter of death. Their partnership is both a bulwark against the world's chaos and a source of its own challenges. Through arguments, reconciliations, and shared laughter, they find meaning not in grand gestures or perfect endings, but in the daily acts of care, forgiveness, and companionship. Love does not freeze, but it endures, even as everything else falls away.

The Choice to Remain

The title's question—should we stay or should we go?—echoes throughout the novel, not just as a matter of suicide or survival, but as a metaphor for all the choices that define a life. To stay is to endure, to hope, to risk disappointment; to go is to assert control, to seek dignity, to avoid pain. The Wilkinsons' journey is a testament to the difficulty and necessity of choosing, and to the possibility of finding meaning even when the answers are provisional and the endings uncertain.

Characters

Kay Wilkinson

Kay is the emotional and practical center of the Wilkinson family. A former nurse who later reinvents herself as an interior designer, she is shaped by her experiences caring for her aging parents and the toll it takes on her own life. Kay is both compassionate and unsentimental, capable of deep love but also of hard decisions. Her relationship with Cyril is marked by both partnership and resistance—she is not afraid to challenge him, even as she often goes along with his plans. Psychologically, Kay is driven by a desire for agency and dignity, but also haunted by the fear of decline and dependency. Her journey is one of learning to balance control with acceptance, and her character arc is defined by her struggle to find meaning in the face of mortality.

Cyril Wilkinson

Cyril is a retired GP whose experiences in the NHS shape his worldview and his anxieties about aging. He is the architect of the suicide pact, motivated by a desire to avoid the indignities he has witnessed in his patients and family. Cyril is both principled and stubborn, often seeing the world in black and white. His activism—against Brexit, for the NHS, for rational end-of-life planning—reflects his need to impose order on chaos. Yet beneath his rigidity lies vulnerability: fear of loss, of irrelevance, of being a burden. Over time, Cyril is forced to confront the limits of his control and the complexity of love, learning to accept ambiguity and the inevitability of change.

Simon Wilkinson

Simon, the eldest child, is the family's steady hand—successful, reliable, and sometimes emotionally distant. He feels the weight of responsibility for his parents and siblings, often stepping in to manage crises. Simon's relationship with his parents is marked by both respect and frustration; he admires their independence but struggles to understand their choices. Psychologically, Simon is shaped by a sense of duty and a desire for order, but he is also capable of empathy and quiet rebellion. His arc is one of learning to balance obligation with compassion, and to accept the limits of what he can control.

Hayley Wilkinson

Hayley is the middle child, an artist at heart whose life is marked by both creativity and instability. She is often late, attention-seeking, and prone to emotional outbursts, but her love for her family is genuine. Hayley's relationship with her parents is complex—she resents their expectations but also craves their approval. Psychologically, she is driven by a need for recognition and a fear of being ordinary. Her arc involves coming to terms with her own limitations and finding meaning in connection rather than performance.

Roy Wilkinson

Roy, the youngest, is the family's black sheep—charming but feckless, always looking for shortcuts and quick fixes. He struggles with commitment, both in relationships and in work, and often relies on his parents for support. Roy's relationship with his family is marked by both affection and resentment; he feels misunderstood but also entitled. Psychologically, Roy is driven by a fear of failure and a desire for easy solutions. His arc is one of gradual reckoning with responsibility and the consequences of his choices.

Dr Mimi Mewshaw

Dr Mimi is the director of the care home where Kay and Cyril are sectioned. She embodies the impersonal, bureaucratic cruelty of institutional care—outwardly friendly but ultimately indifferent to the individuality and dignity of her charges. Mimi's role is to enforce rules, maintain order, and protect the institution's interests, often at the expense of the residents' well-being. Psychologically, she is a study in the banality of evil: her actions are not motivated by malice, but by a belief in procedure and efficiency. She represents the dangers of a system that prioritizes safety and control over humanity.

The Children (as a group)

Kay and Cyril's children—Simon, Hayley, and Roy—are each distinct, but together they represent the next generation's struggle to care for aging parents. They are motivated by love, fear, guilt, and self-interest, and their interventions are as likely to cause harm as to help. Psychologically, they are caught between the desire to protect and the need to let go, between honoring their parents' wishes and imposing their own. Their arc is one of learning to accept the limits of their power and the inevitability of loss.

The Care Home Residents

The other residents of the care home are a chorus of voices, each with their own story of decline and endurance. They represent the collective fate that Kay and Cyril fear, but also the possibility of finding meaning and connection even in the most diminished circumstances. Psychologically, they are shaped by loss, adaptation, and the struggle to maintain identity in the face of erasure.

The Black Soap-Dish Box

Though not a person, the black box is a character in its own right—a constant presence in the Wilkinsons' lives. It embodies their desire for control, their fear of decline, and the tension between hope and despair. Its meaning shifts over time, reflecting the couple's changing relationship to mortality and each other.

The Future Selves

In the novel's alternate futures, Kay and Cyril become avatars for the possibilities and perils of longevity, technology, and social change. These versions of themselves are both familiar and strange, grappling with the same questions in new contexts. Psychologically, they represent the persistence of the human search for meaning, even as the world changes beyond recognition.

Plot Devices

Multiple Endings and Parallel Realities

The novel's most striking device is its use of parallel endings—alternate futures that play out the consequences of different decisions, accidents, and interventions. This structure allows the author to explore the central question—should we stay or should we go?—from multiple angles, revealing the complexity and unpredictability of life. Each ending is both a resolution and a commentary on the impossibility of perfect planning. The device underscores the themes of agency, uncertainty, and the limits of control.

The Black Soap-Dish Box

The box containing the means for suicide is a recurring motif, representing both the promise of a dignified end and the terror of following through. Its presence shapes the characters' sense of time, their relationship to each other, and their understanding of what it means to have control over one's destiny. The box is both a comfort and a curse, embodying the paradox of agency in the face of mortality.

Foreshadowing and Irony

Throughout the novel, small details—forgotten phone numbers, misplaced objects, offhand remarks—foreshadow larger developments. The characters' attempts to plan for every contingency are repeatedly undermined by chance, circumstance, and their own limitations. Irony pervades the narrative: the desire for control leads to chaos, the quest for dignity results in indignity, and the pursuit of immortality brings new forms of suffering.

Satire and Social Commentary

The novel uses satire to critique the ways society deals with aging, death, and the distribution of care. The care home, the NHS, the debates over Brexit, and the speculative futures all serve as vehicles for exploring the moral and practical dilemmas of modern life. The humor is dark, but it is also compassionate, inviting readers to question their own assumptions and fears.

Narrative Voice and Structure

The narrative voice shifts between close third-person, speculative vignettes, and even metafictional asides. This fluidity mirrors the uncertainty at the heart of the story—the impossibility of knowing what lies ahead, and the futility of trying to control every outcome. The structure itself becomes a commentary on the nature of storytelling, memory, and the search for meaning.

Analysis

Lionel Shriver's Should We Stay or Should We Go is a bold, darkly comic meditation on aging, mortality, and the illusion of control. By structuring the novel around a couple's suicide pact and then fracturing the narrative into multiple possible endings, Shriver exposes the futility of trying to plan a perfect exit from life. The book is both a satire of modern anxieties—about healthcare, dependency, and the burdens of longevity—and a deeply humane exploration of love, partnership, and the meaning of "enough." Through Kay and Cyril's journey, Shriver interrogates the ways we try to manage death: through policy, through personal resolve, through denial, and through fantasy. The novel's speculative futures—ranging from dystopian care homes to a world without aging—underscore the paradox that every solution to the problem of mortality brings new dilemmas. Ultimately, the book suggests that the art of living lies not in escaping decline or achieving immortality, but in embracing the messiness of endings, the limits of agency, and the enduring power of love. The lesson is not how to die well, but how to live with uncertainty, to find meaning in partnership, and to recognize when it is time to let go.

Last updated: September 20, 2025