If you can imagine Jane Austen on speed writing in Scots about darkest Lanarkshire, you have got the idea. Mad witches, heads in freezers, libidinous priests, lots of vodka - it's all here. And you will never expect the end.
In 1948 there was an eclipse of the sun. Everybody went out the backs of the Slap Up to say the rosary. Oul Mary took Alice to the Chapel. St. Augustine's was packed and everyone was praying cos they thought it was the end of the world. Once the moon moved on from the sun and the sun shone out they proclaimed it a miracle and they all went back to work. The Slap Up had a massive party that night and their Scottish neighbours marvelled at the superstition these people had.