In the bedroom above her immense studio at Burntcoat, the celebrated sculptor Edith Harkness is making her final preparations. The symptoms are well known: her life will draw to an end in the coming days. Downstairs, the studio is a crucible glowing with memories and desire. It was here, when the first lockdown came, that she brought Halit. The lover she barely knew. A presence from another culture. A doorway into a new and feverish world.
‘Sarah Hall makes language shimmer and burn… One of the finest writers at work today.’ DAMON GALGUT
‘Transporting… A beautiful novel, full of heat and darkness.’ AVNI DOSHI