Essentially, the story centres around five very different characters and as many definitions of England as you could shake a stick at. So, we have Nat, urban man, husband and father of two young girls. He comes over as a pedantic playwright. He was a Friday writer. To earn some pennies and a modicum of self-respect, he reluctantly lectures part-time.

His put-upon and exasperated wife, Libby brings home the bacon and also wears the trousers in this south of the river household. She is a strong-minded woman so when she discovers that her husband is cheating on her, she gives him an ultimatum. Her or her. He chooses the young mistress and leaves the family home.

The mistress, Anthea is clothed in “green” credentials but finds herself, somehow, stuck in a public sector, dead-end nine to five. An ex-student of Nat’s, she still scribbles fictional stories, also with the fox theme. Her finished book is entitled ‘The Book Of Foxes’. Her stories are mystical and mythical concluding with the sweeping statement ‘Every man was once a fox. Every woman was once a vixen.‘ They become lovers by accident. ˜It was an erotic move that should never have been made, a cyber-space fantasy ... would end in disaster” and it did. Anthea soon tires of a wimpish Nat and when she unexpectedly inherits some money, she decides not only to leave Nat, but the UK as well. She eventually finds her niche carrying out charity work in Israel.

We are introduced to Nat’s best friend, (it could be argued his only friend) Harry. Harry is a brooding journalist with a secret that’s eating him up. He also happens to be black. He works for the local rag but is frustrated that his talents are being wasted. Is he doing anything about it? No, not really. Just orders another pint in his local - oh, and one for Nat while he’s at it.

Nat’s uncle, Jack, runs a failing company in the sticks (in this case it’s East Anglia). He tries to sell lawn-mowers. You’d perhaps be forgiven for thinking that business would be brisk in green and rural East Anglia. When Jack’s wife suffers a stroke - “she had become defunct - like one of his unsold mowers rusting in the yard“ (a poignant sentence from Morrison the poet) - Jack discovers that he is useless on his own.

In conclusion, Blake Morrison is a writer with a lot to say. Dotted throughout his narrative, the reader is presented with a potted history of Blair’s Britain - the good, the bad and the downright ugly (that’ll be the Millennium Dome then?) And what of the characters? After changing and dispensing with partners, like a game of musical chairs, the dust settles on relationships and particularly Harry and Nat (now with a new partner and a father-to-be) look to a rosy future. Even prickly old Jack buries the hatchet. Lives lived out in multi-cultural, multi-faceted England under Blair.