Review - Itch by Gemma Amor

Itch
Gemma Amor

Hodder & Stoughton, 9 October 2025
Available as: HB, 352pp, audio, e   
Source: Advance copy
ISBN(HB): 9781399745369

I'm grateful to the publisher for giving me access to an advance e-copy of Itch to consider for review.

"It looked like something from a fairytale about lost children following trails of breadcrumbs..."

Itch is Josie's story. Brought up, after the death of her mother ("She still found that absence difficult to cope with. It was like leaving a conversation partway through") by a slovenly father, Josie watches her mother's neat, tidy home being degraded and soiled. Her dad, alternately bullying and wheedling, can perhaps be excused a lot, but Josie grows up nervous and neglected, full of tics and avoidance.

She doesn't remember her childhood. It's blotted out. By her.

Small wonder, perhaps, that she falls in with an abusive partner whose chief joy seems to be in controlling her and who eventually lands Josie in hospital.

And so Josie ends up back in the Forest of Dean, living in her dad's holiday let - which he makes clear is on sufferance. 

It feels to me almost like a release when Josie stumbles on a decaying corpse in the woods. (Do be aware that this scene is authentically revolting - not one to tackle when eating your lunch, as I stupidly did!) While the discovery is traumatising, and the effect on Josie is profound, the body, and the subsequent murder investigation, provide a focus for her life. 

I say the effect is profound. That's perhaps putting it mildly, without giving too much away, there is a sense in which I think Josie takes the violence of the killing into herself, imagining - or does she? - that the crawling ants she discovered around the dead body have somehow infested her. Crossing the line from hallucination to real, physical presence, Josie views the colony now infesting her as an actual, almost sentient thing. Her attempts to rid herself of it are vivid and concrete - washing, scratching herself till she bleeds, even scraping her eyeballs - and distressing to read. But her growing acceptance of it as an entity, almost an actor in the events that unfold, is if anything even more so.

As the police investigation into the dead girl focusses more and more on Josie, her father's behaviour grows more menacing, and dark secrets emerge from the woods, Josie endures a punishing winter of malice and loneliness.

Itch really is a dark story. Josie's relationships are in a bad place. Her mental health is suffering (Josie's mood, her internal monologue with its undermining narrative, and her frenzied attempts to regain control, are touchstones of this story). The murder casts a shadow over her life. And her hometown, isolated in the woods of the Forest of Dean, indulges in a yearly "Devil's March" that is either a commemoration of said Devil, an attempt to exorcise him - or, as one local folklorist believes, a ritualised attempt at scapegoating difficult women.

I really enjoyed the folk-horror vibes that the March, and its mythology, evoked. Despite Jacob's (that folklorist) urgings to follow the Old Ways, Josie is sceptical of the meaning of the March and as it becomes increasing clear that there are powers abroad in the Forest, she's sceptical of them, too. They might be invoked, but if you bargain with the Devil, you'd better get the terms right? The ethical landscape here is much, more complex than "appeal to the Old Ways and they'll fix things". The infestation Josie suffers is similarly ambiguous. It, and the murders, and her tangled relationships, seem to be related, part of a pattern that's ensnared her her all her life, but it's unclear how - even if Josie can work out what happened - she can get herself clear of it.

A vivid, enthralling story, one ideal for dark winter nights.

For more information about Itch, see the publisher's website here.