Easy read. Enjoyable. Mysteries, some ghosties, friendship, a little messing about with time. I often get annoyed when books alternate between time periods but this one was well-done. I’ll keep the author on my list for more easy reads.

I bumped the VW along rutted old lanes that went nowhere and carried out harried, nine-point turns in muddy gateways, beady-eyed sheep staring at me while their jaws rotated like teenagers chewing gum.

The quietness, the absence of the ever-present threat of some kind of violence, were unfamiliar and therefore disconcerting.

Dad didn’t love Mum. He didn’t love any of us. I didn’t realise how much he didn’t love us until after Mum had died and he was free to be the unloving person he’d always been all along.

I wish my mother had lived to see her grandchildren. I know how much she would have loved them.

Some wrongs can never be put right. Not all pain can be alleviated. Human beings are an optimistic bunch, but it’s disingenuous to think there will always be a happy ending; that that which we believe to be right will always triumph.