I've always been intrigued by how easily we hand over our front door keys to estate agents as soon as we decide to sell our property. Up until then we do all we can to keep it secure, foil strangers into thinking we're home by leaving a table lamp on, attaching signage such as 'beware of the dog' when we may not even own one. And then we willingly trust our keys and alarm details to a complete stranger so that they may enter whilst we're out, in the hope that they will bring more strangers to roam freely and peruse our treasured possessions, gaining insights into our personal taste.
What if you were unfortunate enough to hand them over to an estate agent who had an unnatural interest in how people live their lives?
Enter Mr. Heming in the chilling new novel by Phil Hogan. This really is one of those books that are impossible to put down. In fact I was so fed up with having to dip in and out of it I cleared a Saturday afternoon so I could read the last half all the way through without any interruptions. It is a very carefully thought out plot narrated by a very disturbed (and disturbing) Mr. Heming who will stay in your thoughts long after the book has found its way back to the shelf. He has a remarkable story to tell, interspersed with flashbacks from his past that start off as small chinks of unrelated experiences and gradually slot together to reveal more of his past.
In a similar way to 'Apple Tree Yard' or 'Before I Go To Sleep' I am already urging people to read this and desperately trying not to tell them too much and spoil the enjoyment. It's a story that stays with you and a character that you cannot forget. I predict this will be a hot book club choice when it comes out in paperback. I'm off now to get my locks changed. And abandon any thougths I might have had about moving......
