I took my exciting new copy of In Ruins to Scotland. Settling down in front of a friendly log fire with a glass of malt whisky by my elbow, I was soon engrossed. Until I got to page 90, that is. It was blank. As indeed was page 91 and pages 94, 95, 98, 99, 102, 103, 106, 107, 110, 111, 114, 115, 118, 119. All completely blank. I sort of lost interest after that. I did consider the possibility that it was some kind of postmodern ironic jest, but decided in the end that that was a little too cerebral an explanation, and opted for an old fashioned printer's cock-up as more likely.
Anyway, I've been in touch with Bibliophile Books and the nice people there have apologised and are sending another copy, hand checked for completeness.