What does it mean to belong to two families, two countries, two versions of yourself? Laura Spence-Ash explores this question with remarkable tenderness in Beyond That, the Sea, a novel that follows the ripple effects of one family’s wartime decision across decades.

When the fear that encircled Britain during World War II becomes too much to bear, Millie and Reg make the heartbreaking choice to send their 11-year-old daughter, Beatrix, across the Atlantic to live with a foster family until the war ends. For Bea, the journey to Maine brings a storm of emotions—grief, uncertainty, and the overwhelming challenge of adapting to an entirely new world.

Life with her American family is vastly different from her middle-class, blue-collar upbringing in London. Bea learns to swim in the ocean, navigates a challenging school, and finds ways to contribute to the war effort from her new home. But perhaps most importantly, she learns to love again—a different kind of family, a different way of being.

The true test comes when the war ends and Bea must return to London. Her heart breaks all over again as she leaves behind the family she’s grown to love, only to discover that home isn’t quite what she remembered. Both she and her mother struggle to bridge the gap that years and distance have created between them.

Spence-Ash has crafted a beautifully patient story that unfolds like a gentle tide, revealing its emotional depths gradually. This isn’t a book about dramatic wartime heroics—it’s about the quieter casualties of war, the ways families stretch and reshape themselves, and how love can exist in multiple places at once. The author’s prose has a soothing quality that makes even the most painful moments feel bearable, like being held while you grieve.

Beyond That, the Sea will resonate deeply with readers who appreciate character-driven historical fiction and stories about the complexities of family and belonging. It’s a book that lingers long after the final page, reminding us that some journeys change us in ways we never expected—and that sometimes, the sea between two homes isn’t a barrier, but a bridge.