There are only two real characters in this drama, narrated in Trevor's usual spare, sparse style that puts you into the heart of things. There's Felicia, a somewhat plain teenage girl from a depressed industrial town in the Irish Republic. She's the product of a convent school, but only on suffrance because her father tends the convent's gardens. She's inexperienced and naive and when Johnny Lysaght comes along and turns her head, her subsequent pregnancy is no surprise. And there's Mr. Hilditch, a fifty-something catering manager at a factory in the English Midlands, who lives by himself and fancies young girls, though he's very careful "not to shop near home," as he thinks of it. Felicia runs away from home in search of the absent Johnny, but she finds it's not easy even to survive, much less to locate an errant Irishman, in England. She's a bit suspicious of Hilditch when he tries to help her out, but he arranges things to reduce her options, and Felicia is suddenly in very great danger indeed. Trevor does a terrific job getting inside the head of a pleasant, mild-mannered psychopath, allowing the reader to gradually understand what makes him tick. He won the Whitbread Prize (again) for this novel and he deserved it.