Burn's second novel (after Alma Cogan) tracks the fag-end of the career of a declining tabloid journalist, as he contrasts the highlights of his past against the bizarre, tawdry and banal stories with which is he now entrusted. There are long running threads about a famous tv personality in a coma, and the protagonist's encounters with woman obsessed with maintaining the memorials to murdered London police officers, but there's no plot as such, and it never really gets us anywhere. Given that, you can't help but admire Burn's writing, and I've not doubt this was as meticulously researched as any of his non-fiction books.