This is an amusing, chaotic, tumble through a year in the life of a Jewish north London neighbourhood, with a pervasive thread of something a little darker. However local the setting, or endearing the larger-than-life characters, no one is immune from the continuity of past and present, nor escapes the wider web of human connections.
'Slipped on the ice. Wrist brokken.'
She waved her left hand at me, which was plastered and strapped, the fingers protruding from the dressing like bent grey twigs with splashes of chipped nail varnish at the tips.
'You heff to get me out. Food is terrible. They mekking me eat sossedge.'
'Shall I tell them you want a kosher diet?'
'Kosher pick and mix. No hem, no sossedge. But bekkon I like.' She winked a mischievous eye. 'A little bit of something does you good, isn't it?'