On the beach in Weston-super-Mare, on the south-west coast of England, there is a hint of a chilly breeze in the air but the sun is out and the clouds are faint, whispy streaks across a pleasantly blue canvas. A couple of fishing boats are tethered to the harbour wall and a lone man with a metal detector wanders slowly along the sand. A small shop selling ice-creams has a few takers, despite the nip in the air.
Yet behind its low-key but welcoming seafront lies the evidence of a cloudier, more complex reality.