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England is a country obsessed by housing. Some people want to buy houses, some want to sell. Everyone wants to make a profit, build up capital and, probably, create a pile of money they can retire on and, hopefully, leave to their offspring. In other words, nobody has any idea what they are doing and, as any business person will tell you, are highly unlikely to succeed in their aims. Mickey, trying to enjoy the quiet life in North Salford, keeps coming across these failures. Some of them are his oldest - and bestest - friends. Mostly, he doesn't mind, but his best friend Don is a policeman…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
England is a country obsessed by housing. Some people want to buy houses, some want to sell. Everyone wants to make a profit, build up capital and, probably, create a pile of money they can retire on and, hopefully, leave to their offspring. In other words, nobody has any idea what they are doing and, as any business person will tell you, are highly unlikely to succeed in their aims. Mickey, trying to enjoy the quiet life in North Salford, keeps coming across these failures. Some of them are his oldest - and bestest - friends. Mostly, he doesn't mind, but his best friend Don is a policeman dragged into a feud between building firms. Them Mickey meets his really best friend, a man he hasn't seen for years, and he's a property mogul too. Then Mickey is asked to work with and mentor a jailbird, a young man with a bright future and a disastrous past. The kid wants to build a house - on television. If only people weren't getting hurt - literally - Mickey might be able to walk away. But cuts, bruises, and then a real dead body, stands in his way. Concerned, overwhelmed, he does what he does best - try to help. Unfortunately, it's just not good enough, this time.
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Autorenporträt
Mickey is from Manchester, and he's a Tough Guy. My name is Mike Scantlebury and I'm the author. I'm not a tough guy, I'm more like an opal, small and perfectly formed. But - more bad news, and worse than that - I'm from Bristol, which is a small, historic port in South West England. It's only claim to fame is that people sailed from there in the 15th century and discovered America. Oh, yeah, well, that is quite a Big Thing, isn't it? But that's the deceptive part of the whole story. I live in Salford now, across the river from the big Northern city of Manchester. My 'Manchester' is not like anyone else's, and if you think you know Manchester - maybe from reading other books set there, or seeing the place on films or on television - I need you to know that. Things aren't always what they seem, are they? Luckily, Manchester has Mickey, which means, fortunately for them, that whenever something bad happens, (and it does, regularly), they've got someone who is going to come in, do The Right Thing, and clear up the mess. Not every town can say that now, can they?