My teenage self would've given this book five stars. So what's happened to my relationship with James Herbert since then? Not sure if "It's not you, James, it's me" or the other way around. Had I really never noticed how he overwrites..? (Just what is a 'syrupy frond'..? No idea, but it sounds like something I'd rub over Skarsgard.) This book reads like a YA book with lots of big, silly words (who says 'vestibule' in the course of their daily life?) and scary bits (albeit a rather obvious twist, but not all twists, I suppose, are about shocking the reader). I fear Herbert and I may have to become 'just friends' before our relationship becomes irreparable. Still, the man can tell a cracking good story. So maybe he and I aren't quite done yet...