Laura Hird may tire of comparisons to Irvine Welsh. This collection of stories recalls the ‘Trainspotting’ author not only in the use of language but in the subject matter. Set in some of the less salubrious areas of Edinburgh, these urban tales are steeped in frustration and despair – and yet there is wry humour behind the darkness.
The title story is named for the sophisticated older woman who takes Martin, a jaded lush, into her home. Although he is gay, he finds himself attracted to her. Hird maps perfectly the transition of Martin’s emotions from paranoia to joy as their mutual affection grows. Unfortunately, he is unable to relinquish some of his old habits, and introduces a rather unsavoury character into their domestic bliss who will become their nemesis.
This first story sets the tone as Hird goes on to describe an astounding variety of dysfunctional mini-dramas which display her storytelling talent and imaginative gift. Her range encompasses grief, adolescent awkwardness, and a variety of sexual mores. What stops her writing from being sensationalist is her ability to draw three-dimensional characters. She can evoke both the grief of a middle-aged man and the sexual stirrings of a pre-pubescent girl without pausing to draw breath. And although these characters are often weak and cynical, they can be loving and hopeful too. Hird makes you recognise the conflicting emotions which exist behind every action.
Her range is matched by her observational acuity, making for breathlessly good writing. Not for the faint-hearted or weak-stomached, but ultimately rewarding.
