I grew up loving stories about these big houses, everything from The Secret Garden to Brideshead Revisited, they occupy such a space in literature — and then you get older and realise that, if you’re working-class, you wouldn’t be one of the main characters, you’d have been below stairs.

I’ve always been fascinated by moral ambiguity, by the secrets each of us hold and by the lies we are prepared to tell. For me, these are always the most intriguing stories to read and watch.

Over the next five years, they explore their sexualities, navigating through jealousy, betrayal, desire, and obsession—and the friends and lovers in their circle find themselves asking new questions about their own lives and relationships. But when each is pulled in a new and unexpected direction, Ben and Frances are forced to confront the consequences of their experiment.

I hope that they will have felt immersed in these musical worlds, whether that’s the early chapters at conservatory, or on the road in a tour bus.

If you can imagine Jane Austen’s Emma but set in a tech company in New York City, you’ve got a good idea of the vibe of the book.

Malc’s Boy is an experimental novel in the vein of French autofiction with a Cumbrian setting.

It is a tale of madness, the destructiveness of grief, and the price you pay for the secrets you keep.

The story was never meant to be gentle or sentimental—I felt there was room to interrogate its moral logic rather than simply reproduce it.