This is a quietly reflective book which describes the lives of siblings, Edward and Helen, living in the family home together, on into old age. It is told mainly from Helen's point of view and concerns the recent death of their mother, who was manipulative and spiteful even until the end. A younger daughter managed to escape, but Helen and Edward always remained in thrall to her petty cruelties and rigid social code. Helen might have escaped a couple of times but potential lovers were sternly rebuffed and even discouraged in underhand ways as the malignant mother did her best to keep her two eldest children at her beck and call.
Helen realises that all of this is partly their own fault and the reader has to concur that, both now in their fifties, the mixture of shyness, diffidence and the stiff timidity with which she and Edward approach the world could well have put their chances of anything different beyond their reach. Nothing much happens in the book - Edward gets into trouble for being an atheist at the girls' school where he is a teacher and then gropes the young male gardener, displaying his incipient homosexuality for the first time in his life. There are no consequences for either incident.
Meanwhile Helen is attracted to a local solicitor until she finds out he is a bit of a womaniser, who is not much interested in sex (a strange combination, I felt). The book, in its own way, is as timid and unforthcoming as its characters and it is a shame it couldn't have had a bit more lively realism.
A further mistake is made by Lively when she tries to bring in young people - these being a couple of punks who are the sister's offspring. A more unlikely seeming pair I can hardly imagine. Lively imagines the punk generation rode motorbikes and were into Reggae. Someone should have told her the truth.