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Shrouded
Carol Anne Davis
Do-Not Press/Bloodlines paperback, 209 pages, £7
Review by Gerald Houghton (1997)

Edinburgh. Mother-smothered undertaker Douglas is grateful for his new bedsit. Overweight, unemployed asthmatic Marjorie would like his confidence. All she wants is to make someone a wonderful wife. All Douglas wants is a lover who'll stay still.

See, already you think you’ve got it. And already you’re wrong. Unfortunately.

The snag with this assured but frustrating debut is, bizarrely, that it’s not about necrophilia. No, lolloping old Douglas likes 'em immobile but warm. Holding hands with the dear departed is enough, and the point at which Davis stumbles.

We buy it until Dougie kills for that dream lay. It’s a leap in the dark that Davis sadly can’t pull off. Sadly, because thus far Shrouded hits a real nerve in its faltering, painful courtship. On that level it’s suffocating, uncomfortable and satisfying. The rest . . . well that’s more silly than ‘dangerously erotic’, and the against-the-clock finale is frankly risible. Davis is slumming it.