Jean Collins had two daughters. But she only loved one of them.
She knew it was wrong, but she just couldn't help herself. Jess was a little sweetheart, everyone said so. Anne was awkward and serious and not much fun, to be frank.
But now the years have passed. Jess is missing - run off long ago, no one knows where or why. So when Jean is left in a coma after a road accident, it's Anne who travels back up north to sit with her mother. And she wonders - why did Jean dash out into the road without looking? What distracted her? And why was she carrying a box of vanilla slices, the cream cakes she only ever bought for extra special occasions?
Meanwhile there are secrets waiting for Anne and Jean, back at the old family home. Secrets that were buried a long time ago . . .
'Utterly compelling, brave, angry and melancholy all at once [and] beautifully observed about the subtle complexities of being a woman. Most of all, it's just a great, honest piece of writing'
'Of course it's funny, but it's also dark, honest and totally compulsive'