Shortly before he died of cancer, aged 59, Iain Banks wrote this book about a man called Guy, who is dying of cancer, and his son Kit, who has Asperger’s or something similar. Apparently Banks finished the novel before he was diagnosed; reading this, you wonder if he wrote it under the spell of some kind of authorial sixth sense. Perhaps his inner storyteller was gripped with his worst fears. In any case, this is, like all of Banks’s work, eerily compelling. Kit and Guy live in a crumbling old house next to a quarry; the quarry is encroaching on the house, like a terminal disease. So Guy invites all his old friends for a visit before it’s too late.