A Stuga On the Cusp of the Orust Riviera, tucked away next to a hobbit hole in the woods.
Then there was a dazzle of green and white, white and green. Then the colours seperated, became clear: the white was above, the green below. Tile, she saw, followed tile. Once, she blinked she realized she stood in a corridor."
So she went and soon we found out it was a disease of the blood, I won't put the word down as I can't spell it but it begins with a L."
Let me start by saying that if in my dotage someone calls me "a good girl" for eating one more spoonful of frigging dinner, I will not be held responsible for my actions. And I was fair raging when these carers were specifically charged with getting the old dearies speaking, and then they don't listen to a ruddy word they say, where these said old dearies have lived through far more interesting times than these paid listeners could imagine.
I don't need the inside flap to tell me that Bailey writes authentically through the eyes of a woman of a certain age, the result in the pages is witness to that fact. It is a masterful piece.