Over a week or so, my boyfriend and I took turns reading this to each other in the bath after work. Perhaps that's not the correct atmosphere in which to consume a horror story; I imagine reading this in a single evening, alone by lamplight, you would be well enough spooked. As it is, not being spooked doesnt hurt the rating in my eyes as that sort of thing is often as much in the reader's hands as it is the story's. Anyway, this is an enjoyable story that is only occasionally confusing re time period. Also, I don't know why Anne insisted on going to Venice in the end; Oliver, my guy, I would have dumped her ass right there and found a good homosexual to shack up with if I were you. That white lady wouldn't have known what to do with you, then. She only has power over young heterosexuals, I'm telling you.

Absolutely fell in love with this book.
Can’t get it off my mind. Cant wait to read it again

I wish I could explain what it is about Susan Hill's stories of the supernatural that leaves me feeling dissatisfied and mildly annoyed. There's a falseness in the narrative - what the characters do and why they do it - that cheats the reader and does a disservice to the germ of the story. I believe in the Venetian painting (as long as I don't give it too much thought) but I don't in the least believe in the characters' complete lack of common sense.

Enjoyed the first three quarters of the story, the rest of it was pretty underwhelming.

Shout-out to the Italian policeman who calls the Canal Grande the “Grande Canale”. C’mon now, Susan.