When looking for a new book, how do you make your choice? A recommendation is always a good starting point, especially if it’s from someone you know to be like-minded. Book clubs and reviews, perhaps like this one, can be a useful source, but sometimes just a good browse round a bookshop or library can throw up something which sparks an interest. An author you like produces something new, or it may be as simple as the book cover attracting your attention – or the blurb on the back. In the case of The Other Side of Night, the blurb does not do it justice or prepare you for what is to come, for the need to change your perspectives if you are to discover the secrets of time.

This wonderfully written novel had me gripped. Written in two parts, Part One sees a conclusion to a court case but leaves a burning issue unanswered and Part Two does not let you down. The twists and turns are revealed by several different narrative voices, both in the first person and the third. There are court transcripts, recorded interviews and letters. It is an unusual style but there is no monotony and no confusion either. I advise you not to ignore the Preface which I went back and re-read when I was halfway through the novel.

Harriet Kealty is a disgraced police officer – ex CID. The reason she was dismissed from the force is not revealed until some way through the novel but she has few friends left among former colleagues and an ambitious ex-boss who was happy to see his competition removed. Harri ‘has the heart and soul of a detective’, however, and reading quietly at home, one day, she comes across a cry for help, handwritten in the margin of one of the pages of the book in front of her. Discovering that the person who last borrowed the book from the library is now dead, she decides this is a new case and sets off on a personal investigation. ‘Her motive was the truth. It’s always been the truth.’

Elizabeth Asha was a scientist as was David, her husband. She died of cancer – and her body disappeared, the cameras outside her hospital room having suddenly failed to record. David committed suicide not long after, many believing that he had simply not been able to come to terms with the death of his wife. They left one child, Elliot.

The reader follows Harri, sharing her thoughts on her quest for answers. As well as having no authority, matters are further complicated when, early in her investigations, she comes into contact with an old flame, now the guardian and carer of Elliot. They had met several years earlier through an online dating site and from the first moment, Harri was convinced he was the one to make her life complete – and the feeling seemed to be mutual until the third date when, with no plausible explanation, he coldly and swiftly finished it.

Harri has never recovered and has never met anyone else, so meeting Ben again arouses many emotions. In one way, she sees him as altered, ‘a damaged soul in need of repair’ and as her mother had once described her as ‘a collector of broken toys’, she can’t help being drawn to him, despite the hurt. There is something unusual about Ben, something enigmatic, something fleeting. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on him, Hamdy switches direction and the reader feels uncertain once again – not so sure-footed.

At the end of Part One, there is some sense of satisfaction that the investigation is notionally complete and justice has been served, but there are still questions unanswered and Part Two is welcome. It is eleven years later, but the characters are still in play. Ben is still hovering in the lives of Harri and Elliot, who has obviously grown up, and it is now that the reader is forced to believe in the possibilities of science and to shift perspectives if they are to understand just what has happened. To give Hamdy his due, his explanation is believable, at least to this modern reader. His theory cannot be easily dismissed. Perhaps that is more to do with the quality of writing which explores ‘the melodies of grief’ and ‘the pain of loss’, offering some explanation to the ‘secret of time’. Hamdy’s descriptions are full of incidental detail which creates its own reality. His characters are real yet, at times, unreachable. Emotions are raw as these characters who seem to exist, deal with grief and try to grasp an understanding of events.

Two days is all I took to read this novel and I found myself racing to the end, partly incredulous and partly swallowed up by possibilities I dare not deny.