The farmhouse was called The Beacon & they had been born & reared there, May, Colin, Frank & Berenice, but only May had been left for the last twenty-seven years.. . May had been the clever daughter & she had escaped the shelter of The Beacon, just once, to go to university. But in London she had been pursued by nameless terrors, the victim of fears & anxieties. Now she was the spinster daughter, the one who stayed, who nursed her father after his accident & looked after her mother in her old age. Frank was the one who got away. He married & moved on. But why does no one dare even to mention Frank's name?
Few novelists are as clever at creating atmosphere as Susan Hill, & in The Beacon she evokes mystery, ambiguity & suspense in a story so brilliantly told, so deftly characterised & so economical with words that it continues to resonate long after the reader has closed the final pages.