The Missing Husband – Amanda Brooke

 Jo Taylor’s husband, David, fails to return to his suburban Liverpool home following a works training session at Leeds. He has messaged to say he is on the train, then – nothing, and his phone is off. A worry for Jo of course, but then they had parted that morning with cross words, she refusing to drive him to Lime Street, making him leave early for a connecting commuter train. Is he making a point? She goes to bed.

Next morning, still no sign and he does not arrive at work (they both work for Nelson Engineering where they met ten years back). Police are contacted, and friends and family gather to give mutual support. Appeals are made, CCTV is pored over, no body turns up; it all points to David just disappearing. For no reason.

Except, Jo knows, there may be a reason. After ten years of living the DINKY life (dual income no kids yet) of exotic holidays and globetrotting adrenalin trips, Jo wants a baby. David doesn’t, yet. Jo makes the pre-emptive move of coming off the pill, and the result forces the issue. How pissed off is David? A bit, but enough to abandon his wife and unborn child?

Evidence trickles through: a history of cash withdrawals, a scribbled note in a trouser pocket, the cryptic words in the last text message. Then fresh, post-disappearance, ATM visits. It all points less to a missing person and more to him doing a runner.

A huge chunk of the book deals with Jo’s state of mind, understandably fragile in her circumstances, which deteriorates through and beyond pregnancy. A state of mind that may only improve once she gets closure on the disappearance of her husband. Will she get it?

And that is the hook that keeps the reader going through the (for me repetitive) days and weeks and months of Jo’s self-questioning, second-guessing, trials and tribulations. All very mental health aware, but as wearing on the reader as on Jo.

A reading group choice, otherwise I may not have stuck it out to the end, when thankfully and despite my worse fears, a resolution occurs.

Oxygen – Andrew Miller

Alice valentine is dying, but not before a last birthday is due, and under the circumstances she wants her family around for the occasion. That means sons Larry and Alec. No problem for Alec, he is single, works as a freelance translator, and has already moved into the West Country family home to support his mother. For Larry, ex tennis star and latterly soap actor, it means a return from the US where he lives uneasily with second wife, Kirsty, and kleptomaniac six-year-old daughter, Ella.

Meanwhile in Paris, playwright Laszlo Lazar, Hungarian exile since the 1956 uprising, is hosting a small dinner party. Guests are his live-in secretary Kurt Engelbrecht, an artistic American couple, and a fellow eastern European émigré.

The two narratives move forward - the Valentines’ painful reunion and Laszlo’s party and aftermath. The connection between the two is tenuous – Alec Valentine’s latest commission is to translate Lazar’s new play ‘Oxygene’. But (no spoiler, there is nothing to spoil) the expected collision of the two strands never happens. What commonality there is concerns the emotional states of the key characters. Loss of purpose, regret for past action (or inaction), timidity to grasp opportunity, to name but a few.

Lives are laid bare by Miller’s precise nuance-filled prose, so that by the end the reader knows these people well; and as each is challenged afresh, has a good idea how they will respond this time.

A quietly intense piece of writing that draws you in and keeps you interested to the end.

Review of 2025 Reading Year

Another productive year with 39 books read, including four non-fiction. The male to female author ratio was 24:15 and the same ratio applied to previously read against new to me writers. The eleven reading group selections included three I did not fancy, but the other eight helped the ratios with majority female and new to me authors; also, two make it onto the highlights reel. It was a good year for the Book-et List - four ticked off leaving six outstanding.

 

My nine best books of the year are: (Month of full review in brackets.)

 

Phosphate Rocks – Fiona Erskine: Interestingly constructed mix of science, memoir, and whodunnit set in the chemical industry. (Feb)

 

Should We Stay or Should We Go – Lionel Shriver: Darkly playful exploration of late life choices. (Apr)

 

Hamnet – Maggie O’Farrell: Moving re-imagination of how the loss of the playwright’s son affected the man himself and his family. (Apr)

 

All the Light We Cannot See – Anthony Doerr: Masterful twin track tale of two young people caught up on opposite sides of the German occupation of France in the Second World War. (Jun)

 

The Bee Sting – Paul Murray: Set in Ireland, the disintegration of a family, comic and tragic by turns, is told from the wildly different perspectives of Dad, Mum, Daughter, and Son. (Jul)

 

Bridge of Clay – Markus Zusak: Another tragi-comic family saga, this one set in Australia where five brothers make their rough and ready way following the loss of both parents. (Aug)

 

The Muse – Jessie Burton: Two timelines – 1960s swinging London and 1930s revolutionary Spain – become improbably but cleverly linked as mysteries unfold. (Sep)

The Heart’s Invisible Furies – John Boyne: Cleverly constructed story of a life in seven decade-skipping episodes - each told with wit, humour, and wisdom – and together providing satirical comment on the last seventy years of Irish society. (Oct)

 

You Are Here – David Nicholls: No longer boy meets no longer girl on a hike. Will opposites attract or will ingrained habits get in the way? Funny and moving by turns. (Dec)