Chris Oakes

There is an ancient beech wood in the Siad Valley which would make a perfect spot for a murder. The trees like bunched masts of a galleon fleet lilt gently to the wind — their trunks dressed in a coat of rich green ivy. The dense undergrowth is softened by a deep moss carpet and the web of rough tracks running through the forest is lined by low banks of earth, stone and exposed root half-hidden by a riot of wild strawberry bushes and blackberry bramble. This is the country of Laurie Lee, Siad’s lyrical hero, whose childhood tales of skulduggery in the valley are told in Cider With Rosie.