There are missteps. What should be a deep dive into Costello’s dark family history is kept blankly surface-level. As brilliant and merciless as Rain Dogs is at skewering poverty voyeurism (“I will not be your liberal victim of the week”), the same point is endlessly replayed until it loses its bite. Still, what a bold, wild-hearted ride, and what a fiercely original performer Cooper is shaping up to be. Although, saying all that, the author has an incredible gift with words. She’s very talented but maybe instead of streaming words together that make no sense, maybe she could right in a way that does. I did find myself laughing at some parts; Cash has great humour and I did sympathise with her and her daughter. Her past that syncs into her present is an extraordinary story to tell, I’m not denying that. She’s fought against a system that seems to despise the poor and the disabled and for that I can only praise her for. She can be an inspiration to many people. Daisy May Cooper (This Country) is to star in the show, which is provisionally titled Cash Carraway. Cash Carraway tells you her story. The story of a single mother doing everything she can to survive. To

I really urge everybody read this. And sit with your discomfort. Listen, learn, and stop falling for the poverty porn lies pedalled by our media, our government, and those who have more money than the people they hate could ever dream of. Cash is the definition of edgy, a truly distinctive voice' - Lionel Shriver, bestselling author of We Need to Talk about Kevin Read more Details I'm a scrounger, a liar, a hypocrite, a stain on society with no basic morals - or so they say. After all, what else do you call a working-class single mum in temporary accommodation? We shouldn’t just need to be on the brink of something to just survive. We should be enjoying life.A raw, candid and darkly funny memoir from a stunning new voice on Britain’s poverty line, for fans of Poverty Safari, Prozac Nation, I Daniel Blake and Chavs. As this writer puts it “they lose their minds on Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and Christmas, all the days supposed to be spent with family” Cash Carraway blir som 16 åring utkastad av sin gränslösa och destruktiva mamma. Pappan försvann strax före och skaffar snabbt en ny familj, utan att ta ansvar för dottern. Cash hamnar i destruktiva relationer och när hon är runt 29 blir hon gravid, till sin glädje. Äntligen kan hon få den familjen hon saknar. Den blivande pappa slår sönder ansiktet på henne när han får veta och hotar att se till att hon får ett missfall, om hon inte ordnar en abort själv.

Writer Cash Carraway’s own experience of life on the breadline, and her avoidance of romanticising homelessness, keep the series firmly in reality (Photo: Simon Ridgway/Sid Gentle Films/HBO) From the creator of HBO and BBC's Rain Dogs, Skint Estate is the hard-hitting, blunt, dignified and brutally revealing debut memoir about impoverishment, loneliness and violence in austerity Britain - set against a grim landscape of sink estates, police cells, refuges and peepshows - skilfully woven into a manifesto for change. I finished this in one day. Cash has a brash, sometimes aggressive writing style that is both compelling and jarring to read. She can certainly get her point across, and it’s an important one at that. She talks of a violent childhood, leading to a violent adulthood and pregnancy. Alone, scared - but excited to finally have somebody to love, and be loved in return. She talks about being ignored and stigmatised throughout her time as a single mother - people just don’t listen to women like her. I knew going in this would be dark at times, bleak and depressing, but I wasn’t expecting it to raise so much anger in me. Anger at these women being overlooked, abandoned when they are at their most vulnerable by a government that doesn’t care. The shame and despair, relying on zero hour jobs and food banks to survive. Living below the poverty line, stealing sanitary towels because you can’t afford them, and thinking of suicide as your only escape from this life. At times it was devastatingly heartbreaking. Cash lämnar mannen och ägnar sin graviditet att jobba ihop 10 000 pund på en peepshow, summan som behövs för att skaffa bostad och vara hemma med barnet. Men när dottern äntligen kommer blir Cash deprimerad och ensam och funderar på att ta sitt liv. Tyvärr blir det inte lättare, det blir värre.

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Cash is *determined* to tell her woeful story of poverty and deprivation even if the facts don’t seem to tally with it. Why let such boring details get in the way of a ripping yarn? And she’s determined to make it the government’s fault, and to blame All Men (except scruffy ones who don’t wear suits and make art, those men are allowed a small pass). Plus, she thinks no one can possibly have problems or sadness if they’re not on the breadline. How boring, how cliched, how...utterly infuriating. Despite being beaten down from all angles, Cash clings to the important things - love for her daughter, community and friendships - and has woven together a highly charged, hilarious and guttural cry for change.

After the birth of her daughter, she has a landline fitted so that “in lieu of maternity leave” she can work as a telephone clairvoyant. She also earns extra income as, in turn, a mystery shopper, a low-level drug dealer, a cleaner and by selling her human-interest stories to the Daily Mail. “Poor women can’t afford morals,” she comments. This is the memoir of a woman who is not a stain on society. She’s not a shameful secret, stealing money from the government. She’s not lazy, or greedy. She’s a single mother, raising a child in a city she loves, with no support network and a history of domestic abuse. Cash Carraway is just one voice in millions that we never hear. Forgotten and ignored. This is her story, her life - but unfortunately it’s far from unique. Cash reminds herself of the important things; love for her daughter; community and friendship; and through this, Britain (government) need to change to protect those vulnerable in society and give them a “leg up”. Holding it all together is Cooper, in what is sure to be a career-defining performance. Tough and frustrated, the star of This Country lets us feel sorry for her character but never allows it to tip over into pity. Costello is a woman who can handle herself, and Cooper’s unhesitant skill of switching from comedy to tragedy within the space of a scene is a marvel. One scene halfway through the series, in which Costello breaks down having had all her money stolen, took my breath away.TW: domestic abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, explicit language and discussions of sexual content