Sarah Rayner, who is a Brighton resident, has done it again.
Three people, all of whom have some sort of problem, are eventually drawn together in Mooreland’s Psychiatric Clinic.
There is Karen, a young widow who is coping, or so she thinks, with the loss of her husband and bringing up her two children single-handedly but is then devastated by the death of her father.
We meet Michael, who feels helpless at the loss of his florist business and is tottering on the edge of bankruptcy, and Abby, who has a son on the severe spectrum of autism who simply cannot cope any more.
The clinic saves lives. But it seems a bit of a postcode lottery whether you manage to get there on the NHS, or if you have to shell out a fortune to go privately.
Some lucky people have insurance, of course, but that is a minefield in itself. The unfairness of this made me furious, but then a lot of things about the NHS has the same effect on me.
At the clinic, they slowly reveal themselves and learn to laugh and trust each other with some dark and deep secrets.
This is indeed a bitter-sweet read and made me care desperately what happened to these people and their lives. A brilliant book to read to coincide with Mental Health Awareness Week (May 12 to 18).