Charlie’s in the low stream – probably for life. That’s how it feels these days in Theresa May’s “hostile environment”, like one long emergency.
Take today.
He wakes up on a chill October Monday morning. No heating. He shivers in the kitchen and looks into the bereft fridge. The milk’s curdled, there’s half a Weetabix. His big brother’s still in bed. No job. His mum’s worn ragged. No partner. All her fading attentions go on his baby sister.
His mum’s zonked on tranx. Her zero-hour contract is worth a pittance – just enough to screw up her benefits. Thousands are in this trap.
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