I loved this book! Will that do? Probably not, so let me try to explain why.

Alfred and Kian are two very different characters: the former is an old man, a veteran of the war, living alone with his grief at losing his wife five years previously, and with his memories – not all pleasant; the latter is a young lad, unable to live up to his responsibilities, who throws a brick through Alfred’s window - just for kicks, you understand. Kian’s actions land Alfred in hospital with a social worker assigned to him whose voice ‘booms’ throughout the ward.

Brought up in care, having been abandoned by his mother, Kian is a lost soul with a chip the size of a tree trunk on his shoulder and a feigned nonchalance when he finds himself in court yet again. In truth, he dreads the outcome – inwardly at least – because he knows he has let down his little brother, Dan, yet again.

So, there we have it, the aging eccentric who won’t admit he’s not coping, and the young ne’er do well, find themselves thrust together on a restorative justice programme. It feels like the last chance for both of them: if it does not work, one knows the only alternative is prison while the other may end up unwillingly forced into a care home – a different kind of misery, in his view.

There are plenty of bumps along the way with the reader wondering more than once what the outcome will be.

None of it is Kian’s fault, of course. His life is one ‘massive unlucky coincidence’. The nights spent off his head on too much booze and anything else he can get his hands on are justified relief from his sad existence. The bricks were ‘simply asking to be thrown’. Any fleeting sympathy I may have had for him quickly evaporates… only to rekindle as more details emerge. Alfred tries to appear self-sufficient; he can cook for himself and he can clean – if he chooses to – but Johnson subtly reveals that he’s actually far from capable although he resents any interference in his life. He desperately needs help and Kian’s community service means he’s the unlikely one tasked with providing it.

Alfred does not acknowledge that there is a problem with his ‘collections’ – truly, Stacey Solomon, eat your heart out! Almost every square inch of Alfred’s home is filled with his purchases, all carefully inventoried. It’s an addiction which has worsened since his wife died and which has caused a rift between Alfred and his only daughter, Maggie, who dared to try to help. Kian desperately wants to be allowed to look after his little brother and plans to apply for legal guardianship as soon as he’s eighteen but he lacks the strength of character to sort himself out. When these two find a commonality, however, there is a chink of light but it will take compromise on both sides to get it to burn brightly. It is asking a lot of each of them as they find themselves caught up in ‘a web of pain and pleasure’. There are plenty of bumps along the way with the reader wondering more than once what the outcome will be.

I cared for Alfred and Kian although both frustratingly give in to their faults at times, and I felt for Dan and Maggie. I loathed Kian’s mate, Ryan, and observed the social workers, Sandra and Chris, as each did their job – for it felt as though it was just a job although I know it’s not an easy one and it does not always pay to care too much. Alfred tells Kian ‘You’re not the final version of yourself…you can still change’ and it seemed that was not the only lesson this novel could teach us. ‘Two ingredients [that] didn’t offer a whole lot…[put] together, created something amazing’ – not that you could have predicted it in Chapter one.

So, as I said at the start, quite simply, I loved it.

The narrative does come to a satisfactory conclusion. There’s some luck and a spoonful of sugar but when it’s all over bar the shouting, there’s just a little bit more, a cheeseboard to follow the meal. Life sometimes offers up some lumpy gravy but a selection of cheese with maybe a few grapes on the side, is a good way to end any meal. Kian discovers a talent for cooking and Alfred encourages his ambition to be a chef which allows for my analogy. The ending is heartwarming and you want it to be believable. You want to believe in the notion that people can be saved. So, as I said at the start, quite simply, I loved it.


The Secret Collector is published by Pan Macmillan