This is Fay Weldon sticking pins in a wax effigy of someone who has clearly upset her. But she has transcended the revenge novel and created something uniquely monstrous.

The central premise is that Annette and Spicer's marriage is sort of OK, second time around, even if not entirely faithful. It is certainly highly sexed, and a baby of their joint union is finally on the way. And then Spicer, jealous of the fact his wife has written a successful novel, falls into the grip of two charlatan hypnotherapists who reprogramme his world.

I kept getting annoyed - I think the author intended it - that Annette had such stupid friends that they didn't frogmarch her straight to hospital to get a proper diagnosis of toxaemia and septicaemia. Message to friends: wake up.