Well, I Won't Keep You
Bev Ashworth, of Larch Close on the edge of Leeds, invites everyone round and means none of it. The postman, the window cleaner, the courier: "You must come round for a cup of tea one evening, love." Then, before they can answer: "Well, I won't keep you." Since Tuesday, the invitations have started to stick. Whoever Bev asks round to their face rings her doorbell at seven o'clock, with no idea why, and can't leave her kitchen until she says the words. Which is very handy when you've spent eleven years at war with next door's leylandii. A dark domestic comedy about a hedge, a doorbell that…
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