You may remember this and my post The Thames Towpath following on from a Just Jot Jan post on January 13th.
I finally finished this book last night, and to be honest found it hard going.
Not because of the content or style in which it was written, but the characters were so disjointed, it didn’t actually work for me and I wish it had been all about dog walkers and socialising pets.
Flip flapping between 2016 and 1987 was just confusing, and even corresponding chapters didn’t flow or connect, though to be fair that could be because I could put it down, did, and didn’t pick it up again for a few nights.
The ghost story didn’t materialise, throw away characters kept making an appearance for no apparent reason other than filling a chapter, and the best bit I think was when the creaking noises people had been hearing turned out to be crumbling foundations so that the renovated house collapsed, conveniently killing the murderer and their sidekick after all had been revealed. The bitchy property developer lost the lot as the renovation company went bust so she couldn’t sue for negligence. The dog survived. Hurrah!
I was partially right with my assumption of whodunnit. Basically though, there were no winners, no rosy happy ending, and overall a bit of a depressing read from where I was sitting.