Naked Gardening for the Over-fifties

“I was enjoying myself—I was twelve years old, stuck on an island inhabited by mad killer rabbits, furious gannets, and a couple of insane missionaries. I thought life couldn’t get much better.” Frances doesn’t believe a word of it, especially as the speaker of these absurd words is the person who hurt her so badly decades ago, when they were both in their teens. She never expected to see him again, but now circumstances have conspired against her and she cannot avoid his company. Until a week ago, she had hidden the fact of his existence away in the deepest recesses of her mind, along with far sweeter memories of a young crofter on the Isle of Skye, and a fat Greek who nearly drowned.