It’s 1984 and one of the hottest summers Yorkshire’s seen. It’s the kind of woozy heat to lose your mind in…
Mona is fifteen years old. She’s a drinker, a thief and a fruit machine addict. Things are already going badly in the pub where she lives with her obese step–brother PorkChop. But...
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“"Her words were like tinfoil; they shone and they covered things up."”
“"I thought how money was like food. The smell, the way it came in portions, how badly you needed it. How hungry you got for it, that acidic longing which burned and sickened in your stomach. Firm muscular control was needed over food and money. Money could kill you, wanting and needing it and fighting its power."”
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