This powerful exploration of masculinities, deprivation and abuse in 80s Glasgow is carefully crafted to bring a smile only to plunge the reader into very dark places in the soul of the principal character, the Protestant teenager Mungo, whose neglectful mother and violent big brother only serve to underline the wretched state he is in - until he meets James. Slightly older and a Catholic, very much left to his own devices, James has a pigeon loft, a doocot, which is a refuge for them both, and he provides friendship and physical affection as the two of them try and negotiate their way out of the communities they live in, where sectarian violence, homophobia and dysfunctional families make their continued presence impossible. The two boys dream of getting away - but this looks to be a vain hope.

To go into too much more detail would give away the rollercoaster of ups and downs: suffice it to say that the tenderness between James and Mungo is limited, furtive and yet drawn in patient detail, just as the gang fighting and sexual/substance abuse are described without flinching. At three or four points it was so harrowing I was tempted to give up, but I was do drawn in I desperately wanted to find out what happened at the end. The author leads us on and on through a massive and bloody stand-off, through a terrible (and I mean truly gut-wrenching) camping trip, to an ending that is ambiguous: will the boys remain trapped? Will the love they have for each other sustain them? Is there any redemption for any of these characters? I am still unsure, but I do see why the narrative ends where it does. This is not Heartstopper (far, far from it) or even Kes in Glasgow, but something very different.

An incredibly hard read, then, and there were points at which I wanted Stuart to lead us more easily through the chronological sequence of the narrative, but I am glad I persisted: encountering this was a compelling experience.