It rattles along like one of those old south london suburban trains. Although the end is clearly telegraphed at the beginning and it is obvious that the conception will not turn out to have been immaculate, we are not sure exactly who is going to die, or exactly who the father was until the final chapters. Fortunately the ending is not a tacky romantic happy ending and the aftermath remains to be pondered on.

Along the way the suburban way of life in those days is well evoked; everyone with their eyes firmly on the ground and no-one looking around to question their circumstances - except perhaps Martha, and she is not painted in a sympathetic light. The shadows of wartime experiences are still deep, the consumption boom hasn't really started, convention rules.

Thank god for the sixties, what a shame about the eighties.