A middle-aged American, Marc Laurent, has been taken hostage in Pakistan, although for what reason we are never certain.
Under guard in a small room, he is regularly bound and blindfolded for visits by Josephine, one of his captors, who, more therapist than terrorist, takes a greater interest in Marc’s relationship with his recently deceased (or is she?) daughter, Claire, than in extracting a ransom for his release.
As they settle into a cosyish (but implausible) routine of nightly storytelling, Josephine invents fictional futures for Claire and Marc, while Marc interjects with memories and revelations about their past.
Josephine’s concoctions include a road trip between Claire and an imagined hitch-hiker, Genevieve, who (spookily like Josephine) offers Claire speculative tales about Marc’s fate. But how does this stranger know so much about Claire’s family? And ditto Josephine? Which stories are true? And what is their purpose?
This debut novel from the American writer Daniel Lowe has enjoyable stretches, but some flat dialogue and indistinct characterisation mean the questions it raises about the human need to tell stories only occasionally compel.
