This is one of those books that you find mouldering on the shelves of second hand bookstores at the quiet end of town, or turning slowly yellow in the private library of a big old house. Seemingly published in a parallel universe because they're unlikely to turn up in WHSmith, not being quite commercial enough. I quite like books like this, though, they deal with unusual subjects and are not afraid to feature ordinary people with rather boring habits. The narrator of this one describes himself as 'Death's Secretary' (he's a coroner - liked that one) and has all the charisma of a used teabag but there's a space for people like that in the world.

If I had a problem with this book it was that it's too measured. The real action (and it's quite impressive action) is confined to the last few pages. The rest of it is competently written but a little samey.

In a nutshell, it's a cautionary tale about the pitfalls of sh*gging one's Communist sister-in-law. Perhaps I'm revealing myself as a mouldering-on-the-bookshelf type, but after a short time I found myself wanting to hear less about sh*gging and more about Communism. ( )