Hull 2007: a community isolated by floods and by poverty. No-one wants much out of life. The weekend of the Hull Fair is wet and miserable; only the bright lights of the fair itself providing some relief. Ten lives are changed in two days, not necessarily for the better. Lives defined by aggression, unhappiness, loneliness, humour and above all, drink. And you really care so much about these ordinary people trying to make a go of things.
Typical Lindsey – me, me bloody me. So she’s probably doing this on purpose to get her back. Probably sat in front of the telly in her dressing gown with a fag and a cup of tea, while Denise is stood here like a prick.
Bloody selfish bitch. She knows Denise is not ready to do Town during the day. Not on her own. Not without her.
This little bag of shit in a shell suit does a double take as he lopes past, his kegs halfway round his arse, knuckles virtually dragging on the floor. He nudges his mate, and they both give it the rubber neck, trying to take her in. His mate nearly walks into a bloody lamp-post, he’s that enthralled. Denise looks away quick, but she hears the wolf whistle followed by some no doubt hilarious witticism that she doesn’t quite catch.
Fuck off little boys. Don’t look at what you can’t afford