There was a point in this book where, having been kept avidly turning pages for some time, a traditional character-in-peril plotline emerged. In the context of what had hitherto been an unusual thriller, I was madly guessing ahead that this rather plodding, orthodox part of the story was going to turn out to be the wild imaginings of a mentally damaged character...sadly this turned out not to be the case, and I was left feeling a little deflated that this obviously talented writer was dealing in such mundane matters. (For those who have read it, I'm talking about the point when Sally discovers the massage table onwards).
That's the problem with this book - it's well written, it's gripping and it's complex, but it's oh-so-traditonal in some ways. The final section of the book is given over to a car journey where two characters explain the plot to each other - "So what made you so sure..." "And it was then I realised...." and so forth. I was expecting Mark Kermode's Basil Exposition to enter stage left!
Having said all that, I devoured it quite quickly and would definitely explore Hannah's other works.
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