Kenneth strikes an unusual figure for what Amazon mistakenly think is a teenage fantasy book. Either the aging man is dangling from a tree wearing a wartime ARP helmet, in protest at the demolition of his family home and surrounding woodland for executive housing to be in its place, or he is sprawling across a table in a bus station café, with one eye on the errant behaviour of modern teenagers and drafting a sprawling recollection of the time he knew and loved Arboria, all for the benefit of a future reader identified only as Jamie.