Irish fiction is really buzzing these days and I was delighted to get my hands on this novel from the (until recently) under-represented Northern Ireland. By a female author but written from the perspective of a young man, we follow the lead-up to his having to leave the violence of his home city of Belfast in the 1990s, the new life and love he forges for himself in the anonymity of London, then a return to lay the ghosts of his troubled past. Jenny McCartney creates a wholly sympathetic character in Jacky, haunted by his inability to protect his friends and family, and torn between starting afresh and avenging past wrongs. His musings reveal insights into his own and his country’s experiences that steer just clear of cynicism or sentimentality - ‘Ireland was susceptible to the whispers of ghosts, and so we made more of them’. Mostly, though, the story is a celebration of understanding and kindness in terrible times.