Set in California , Rogerson's native state, the novel tells the story of a haunted house turned hospice. The hospice is run by an unscrupulous businessman, Joe who lives on the grounds of his business with his dizzy wife June. Joe and June have a wise daughter Georgia May and a dog Moze who they love more than their daughter. Joe is worried; there are only a few residents in the hospice. Where are all the dead people? In desperation he hires a Mexican immigrant pot washer, Manuel, to masquerade as a doctor and find dying people. Laid back Manuel convinces Morag, his colleague and the love of his life, that she is dying and that she needs to move to the hospice.

Here the story adds a complex layer on top of the, up until now, amusing little tale. The stages Morag goes through after Manuel convinces her she has terminal cancer are brilliantly drawn; calm acceptance, anger, regret, optimism and even joy. The underlying theme of the novel, the empty space left behind when a body passes from this world, resonates through every page. What do we leave behind when we die?

Morag is a multi-bigamist (or should that be polygamist?) and before her diagnosis would spend her time musing about her own funeral and trying to imagine who would inhabit her kitchen when she is gone. At first I thought so what? But the transient nature of this character is used to illustrate the point of the many lives a person touches as they walk across the earth and how long it take before that person, you and me, disappear forever. Although this point is hard hitting, the impact loses some of its punch by being repeated a little too often throughout the book.

To further illustrate this, Rogerson gives us brother and sister, Robbie and Carlton Spelling, a couple of wasters, both approaching their thirties and acting as irresponsibly as teenagers. Both characters are intended to be grotesque and unsympathetic, but they steal the show with their no holds barred attitude toward life, particularly with their lists of types of people they despise and types of people they tolerate. I had the feeling that the author had some fun compiling these lists.

Throughout the novel we are treated to extracts from the Consuela Chronicles, a collection of stories of the sightings of Consuela the ghost who haunts the Hospice. Although this work well with the themes of dying and legacy, I found this device distracting in a novel which is already packed with interesting characters.

There are a number of memorable moments in this book. The parody of the volunteer ladies who work in the hospice, I am sure is drawn from real experiences; I know these women too.

The way Morag's history unfolds through her scrapbook is a neat device and the scene where she took photos of ordinary people in a mall reminds me of the extraordinary work of photographer, Martin Parr.

  The chapters are short and diverse, switching characters with slick precision to move the story through some bizarre, ironic and touching episodes until the novel reaches its satisfactory end.

A few confusing plot variations and unnecessary throw-away characters can be forgiven in this tale which hurls the reader along with every turn of the page. The use of present tense, the sprinkling of unusual illustrations, fresh similes and surprising metaphors all help this novel breath life into characters that are stranger than fiction and yet believable. The plot may at times be a little silly, but the underlying theme is strong enough to give the story the cohesiveness the wonderful cast of characters deserve.

Moira McPartlin currently lives in Ross-shire, but travels extensively with work. She started writing three years ago to relieve the boredom of airport lounges. She enjoys writing short stories and her passion for mountaineering and travel provides plenty of material for non-fiction articles. Moira has yet to have any work published, but lives in hope. She is currently working on her first novel.

© 2007 Laura Hird All rights reserved.