“We’ve already established that the street was empty when I turned around. But just because no one was there does not mean that no one was there. I just couldn’t see them. Like so much else in life.”
One cold, dark night, a woman is followed to the doorstep of her Victorian terrace in Shepherd’s Bush. With only a lonely glass of red to greet her, she wills the eyes that watch her to see into her shimmering past.
Our narrator is a former dancer, a rags-to-riches girl who married Harry, a charismatic film producer. Amongst memories of lost friends, dark London clubs, and a perfect front door, a stranger arrives with an alternative story to disrupt what’s gone before.