I assume I must have snapped up Anna Wilson’s A Place For Everything on Netgalley as soon as I saw that it was a memoir about her mother’s late-diagnosis of autism but I have no memory of doing so. However, when I came across it one evening recently I was absolutely hooked within the first few lines.

I’ve been given this book multiple times. By my friend Becca as a speedy read on the train home from visiting her in Canterbury (I still have your copy by the way Becca).

I’m kind of ashamed to admit that some of this has felt like a holiday to me. Hear me out. I have taken it seriously from the start, currently self-isolating after my husband fell ill, reaching out to neighbours and following the government’s daily briefings closely.