Was a little disappointed by the ending - the whole story had a realism to it that was lost when I read the last few pages. Set in an affluent Manchester suburb [4] it concerns Brendan and Sherilyn Guttridge and their daughter Samantha, who has not been seen for weeks.

Please try again later as the restrictions may be lifted, or contact your service provider if the issue persists.because it seems like Tupolski almost suddenly developing bisexuality along with a hankering for a male paedophile is sort of par for the course for Brendan.

She acknowledges the arguments of the New Critics, but distrusts their attempts to cleanly separate the artist from the art. Her recollections toggle between affection and acid condemnation, a tension that mirrors the book’s ambivalence toward the work of artists she both admires and deplores. For starters I can't imagine either of these bloodless, two dimensional characters falling in love with anyone other than themselves although I suppose we are lead to believe that they are two kindred spirits in appearance and attitude. And as I felt appaled of this having happened, the story extracts all emotion out of it and leaves only a dry and decaying lump of a novel. In better hands, this book could have been a disturbing psychological thriller addressing a serious issue in a hitherto unexplored manner; rather it turned out that a heinous crime was used as the catalyst for a salacious throwaway romance story.Had I read this book a couple of years ago, it may not have gripped me the way it did but now, having had a baby, it horrified me.