The imposing presence of Longhope casts a long shadow over this story about a young woman trying to make sense of her past. Events take place within a dual timeline, the 1980s and 2011; little is left to the reader's imagination - the copious consumption of booze alone made me feel woozy. A convincing portrayal of life inside a hippy commune, where drugs and free love are standard, should satisfy readers who like a mystery neatly resolved.
But the year I returned, that corner of North London was the only place where I wanted to be. There I was, in 2011, pink-haired and pissed off, trying to rediscover the strange, lost, summer I was five, that I suspected marked the point where it had all gone wrong and my parents buried their secrets. Five is a strange age for making memories. Some recollections are lurid in their vigour, others slippery. I suppose, in my adolescent way, by going back I was trying to claim some part of myself as my own, and not theirs.