A taut psychological novella set in Thatcher’s Britain, a country that in this snapshot comes through as wavering between anger and resignation. Jenni is a mail sorter at the post office, a job she carries out with the exactness of a machine, and is subjected to humiliating surprise speed and accuracy checks and to the arbitrariness of petty supervisor. Discontent is everywhere and, as the country is shaken by strikes, Jenni has to negotiate where to stand. She works hard to be able to send her daughter Deborah to university and she returns home every evening to find her husband Simon drinking beer slouched on the sofa. The two have been drifting apart for a while and also her daughter is growing more and more alienated from her. When she finds a postcard from a desperate lover that will never reach its destination on the Isle of Wight because the address is wrong, she thinks that fixing that love she might mend hers, too. 

An intense story played out between two dimensions: the tense domestic atmospheres where every glance, word and silence weigh a ton and tension is palpable; and the escapades on the Isle of Wight, the uplifting sense of lightness, adventure and freedom that comes when drifting downhill on the bike taking in the fresh air in the magnificent landscape of the island. 

I loved the careful way point of view is manipulated, self-deception exposed. Appearances crumble as layers in the story are uncovered and secrets resurface, revealing dark truths and hidden character traits. I found myself shifting, siding with one and then with the other as they go through guilt, grief, anger regret, acceptance and growth. I also loved the way the political shapes the  personal, how characters are shown reacting in that particular political climate. Definitely a page turner for me.