A bleak prediction of the consequences of rising sea levels, McDonagh's book is set in a nightmare vision of Cheshire in the not-too-distant future: "When we first came here the golf course was a progression of green velvet swirls. Later it became the makeshift burial ground for the first wave of victims." Rachel lives alone in a semi-fortified mill, where she is subject to the attention of a sinister stalker, who makes use of the fact that there are still  for the time being at least  functioning phonelines to breathe down. The most disturbing dystopias are those which feel closest at hand; and McDonagh indicates how swiftly society reverts to tooth-and-claw primitivism, though the plot follows a fairly predictable course  it seems inevitable that Rachel's unwanted admirer should keep a graphic, masturbatory journal which she finds and reads. Fans of post-apocalyptic parables will be well pleased; and there is something to be said for a deluge that does away with Kerry Katona and all those Wags' palaces round Alderley Edge.