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What a tremendous read! An 18 year old girl, the middle sister in her family, is guilty of a social crime that is considered by her entire community to be beyond the pale. I'm about to challenge you, fellow book lovers, to commit the same offense.

In the late 1970s, when women's opinions were still deemed to be of far lesser value than men's, a young lady who refuses to acknowledge bombings, shootings, and the sharp teeth of public opinion might be seen to bring on herself whatever rumors and ill will that pop up. She intentionally keeps her head in the sand, ostrich-like, digging for some modicum of peace in a place were death runs rampant. Her goal is to keep her head down and keep a low profile.

The irony is that her withdrawal sets her far apart from others, and her behavior comes under high scrutiny. An IRA terrorist (or freedom fighter, depending upon one's viewpoint) is highly placed in the ranks of local "renouncers" and is never crossed. This man, known as "Milkman," is accessorized with Semtex explosives, stacks of automatic weapons, black capsules full of poison, and a legion of thugs who follow him without question. Milkman is not one to refute. But as he takes notice of this pretty girl, a girl who goes out running in a time period when jogging seems irrational, the entire community notices too.

What follows, story-wise, is how his subtle but perseverative attention - his polite stalking - impacts not just this middle-sister in her family, but the fellow she has been dating for nearly a year. Her maybe-boyfriend (they're semi afraid to push the relationship forward) might just have his life at stake, considering that the murderous Milkman sees him as competition.

As you've likely noted, the 18 year old girl does not have a name, just a reference point. Middle-sister, Maybe-boyfriend, Wee-sisters (three adorably precocious little girls), Ma, Pa, Oldest-friend, Chef, Real milk man, 3rd Brother in Law, the International couple, and others are the appellations we learn. Because in a certain unnamed country (hello, Northern Ireland) there may be spies from Over the water (England) who are listening in and can come for you in the middle of the night. It is unwise to name names.

You don't need to read anymore about the plot - let's let you be surprised (there is a huge WOW at about the 85% mark). But the narrative style here will be something you adore or loathe. As in many stories, we have a first person point of view, but it is extremely conversational. Some have called it stream-of-consciousness, but I would not agree. The narration is FUNNY, with some half sentences and run-on sentences like you or I would have if we were just chatting. That said, the lengthy lines and probably grammatically incorrect punctuation might bother some readers. But, oh - the language! Juicy and fat, colloquial, and loaded with thought tangents that recover themselves and make a U turn back to the main thread, this was a dream to listen to!

So that's where I am, encouraging you to engage in the precise faux pas this middle sister committed and got the entire community gossiping. The offense is "reading while walking." While she would skip taking the bus so she could pull out an 18th century novel and read while walking home, I've merely turned on the audio book while out walking or driving. The audio narration is outstanding! My mom's parents were from Belfast, so of course, the accent flashed me back to my grandmother reading aloud to me.

The other thing that made this very real for me was that in 1979, I was on a trip to England with a high school group. My mom flew over the Atlantic with us but went to Belfast to look up her relatives and see where her parents were born. When her taxi pulled up to the hotel, there was nothing left but rubble and smoke. It had just been bombed that morning. She ended up staying in the private home of the hotels owners and sharing a bed with a servant girl. When it was time to leave Belfast, there were armed “soldiers� standing at some sort of gate. Another woman had several pieces of Waterford crystal in her luggage that she had just purchased. The soldiers told her they would not allow her to leave Belfast with them. The woman, incensed that they’d likely resell the crystal, removed each piece and shattered them on the street one by one. They were furious, raised their weapons but did not shoot. My mom was flipped out having seen her own tiny little slice of the Troubles.

As for the audio narration, beyond the brogue, the little semi sarcastic tones and witticisms brought the black humor alive. Brid Brennan is the award-winning actress who delivers this story so beautifully. As for the print version, I'm sticking in here a link to a book excerpt so you might judge for yourself how well you might love/tolerate the conversational style
For those who might not tolerate the long, irregular sentences in print format, the audio is free from the Hoopla app.

I’d say give it a go, no matter how old-farty you may regard audio books. Nobody will be watching or judging or gossiping, least of all anyone as scary as Milkman. Go ahead and shatter your crystal. There will be no witnesses.