Wish You Were Here by Graham Swift

We are on familiar ground with the structure of Swift’s latest novel. It opens with a rundown of Britain’s recent agricultural disasters — first BSE, then foot and mouth. The dire story is outlined by retired farmer Jack Luxton as he sits by the window of the cottage overlooking the Isle of Wight caravan park he now runs.

A loaded shotgun lies on the bed behind him. Now we will be told, bit by bit, how and why it got there.

It’s a melodramatic set-up, and one that he has used to good effect in previous books. The device succeeds in keeping the reader glued to the pages. In this case, we are longing to find out whether Jack will pull the trigger.

Despite the high drama, we hear the story through Jack’s voice: the plodding, everyday language of rural England.

Jack grew up on a cattle farm in Devon. His mother died when he was 21 and his younger brother Tom was 13. The farm then went into a decline and closed after the cows had to be destroyed in the BSE crisis.

Now married, but childless, he has moved into the holiday business with his wife Ellie. We eventually learn that his present despair was triggered by Tom’s death in Iraq while serving with the Army.

Jack sets off alone from the Isle of Wight, first to an Oxfordshire airbase for the formal return of Tom’s body and then to North Devon for his funeral. They had been estranged for years, but the death has unleashed memories that Jack had managed to keep buried until now.

It’s a good read, despite the deadpan style, and there are some wonderful vignettes. The new owners of the family farm, for example, sense that something is not quite right with their ideal home. They are the new owners of England’s countryside, but don’t begin to understand it.

Swift is on top form, and has created rural characters as memorable as those in his magnificent third novel, Waterland.