The Oracles, by Margaret Kennedy: a scathing comedy. The novel is hand-sewn, in the old-fashioned way, with particular attention to interiors, a keen sense of the weather and conventions.
After a terrible storm, we discover in his workshop the last sculpture of the local artist which has disappeared without leaving an address: it is in reality a garden chair struck by lightning. It's the 1950s. War and deprivation are still on everyone's minds. People get up in arms, give receptions that turn sour, and everyone is jealous of London.