This is the first book by Ishiguro, and because I read and loved some of his other works, I picked up this one. Reading it, it seems pretty straight forward, the story of a Japanese woman living in the UK, remembering a summer just after the war in Nagasaki. But the friend she describes is very strange, antisocial almost, and the child too. And in the end, just a few lines, a few words make you doubt all you read and see the story in a whole new light. Wow. Another one I loved very much.