In the introduction, the writer mentions this was the only book he wrote “for fun”. Considering how many the man wrote, this was a sad confession. Man meets his self-absorbed, manipulative and irritating aunt, but he finds her fascinating and embarks in some adventures with her. Or something like that.

Methinks it’s a thumbs down for Graham Greene. This wasn’t the most boring book that I’ve read and it had a lot of racy ingredients for the time – spliff, sex, smuggling, but it definitely didn’t hit the spot. I will try one more and then it’s adios.