This is an outstanding book. When ten year old Lewis watches his mother drown, there is no-one to pick up the pieces. His father is distant and pushes him away. The village community begins to ostracise him, and his new, young stepmother does not know how to help him. The only person who knows and understands him is Kit, although for much of the story Lewis does not recognise her love for him. He is, however, taken in by her sister, the beguling Tamsin. The story of his young life unfolds, disastrously; I could hardly bear to read it at times, although the ending redeems it.

You are immediately involved with this young character from the first page, and you feel like shouting to the other characters to begin to understand him, and to help. Although it was heart-rending, it was also compulsive reading. It is a telling description of the tightly buttoned up attitudes of the fifties, and I found the condemnation that Lewis received entirely convincing. This book was shortlisted for the Orange Prize, and I, for one, found it a better read than the winner.