"It was April 1973, England. I was nearly 16 years old. My trousers were flared. I rejected politics, biscuits and bombs. I accepted Walnut Whips, David Bowie, Deep Purple."
Alas, Rebecca's parents don't always accept her wishes and behaviour. The family leave Wye-on-Thames soon after she's caught with Dave, her maths tutor, in a position that doesn't add up. They move to a slumbrous village with a green, a pub pleasingly called The Dog and Bonnet, and several darker sides.
Dave of the ginger hair and freckly face is soon supplanted by Alex of the dubious morals and brooding portraits, along with Algernon, who's tall, slender and dead.
I said "dead". He's the ghost of Keats' second cousin, and lives in Rebecca's wardrobe. He and Rebecca pal up, in spite of his balcony-sitting and equally dead sister, and his habit of leaving grit around the place. They share meditations on mortality, and poems on lots of things.
There's also sex. No, not with Algernon. Plus there's talk, talk, talk and books, books, books. Our young protagonist's family is one of the most eloquent and literate you'll ever meet. Sometimes you wish they'd all just stand quietly for a few minutes.