To think of the Yorkshire Ripper as a type of terrorist makes sense, given that the fear he engendered during his crimewave was far in excess of his actual reach. Here was a faceless phantom of almost supernatural power, striking at will and at random. In a time before the endless serving up of serial killers as nightly entertainment, women and girls across the north walked in groups after dark or stayed indoors; developed a horror of ginnels, alleys and snickets; looked at the men around them, wondering, could it be him, or him?
When he turned to younger and more “respectable” prey than his earlier victims, who either were, or were characterised as, sex workers, the panic became widespread. Miv, the central character and chief point of view in Jennie Godfrey’s debut novel, is only 12, and while the adults around her are keen to spare her the gruesome details and to assure her that she is not a target, she still feels steeped in the malignity. With the police and media insisting that the Ripper hides in plain sight as “somebody’s husband, somebody’s son”, Miv decides to conduct her own inquiries with her best friend Sharon.
