19 year old Alice taking occupation of her own home for the first time, an empty-edgeside abode, taken there by her Dad in his car with a £50 loan to tide her over and then her finding some 50p pieces for the meter. Waking dreams and hemmed voile and used newspapers already there, items to be shown the door. And a glimpse of a small girl on a bicycle or two girls on bicycles in the street…
As I read towards the end of this work I was utterly confident that the ending would make the whole thing worth reading. I was not wrong, even though it was not until the story’s very last word that such confidence was fulfilled. Like opening a glove compartment in an old car from your past. Or simply shutting it?