Boston, 7.30am, June 24, 2016. In a terraced house in the west of town Iga Paczkowska, 38, has completed her usual routine — coffee, breakfast, shower, a little make-up — and begun her walk to work. She makes her way from her home in Norfolk Street, over the crossroads and through Central Park, which is littered with empty cans and leaflets. On terraced streets similar to her own flags hang over the brickwork — the red cross of St George, the Union Jack, occasionally Lincolnshire’s blue and green colours. Signs, too. “We won, go home”, say some. Others are more aggressive: “No more Polish vermin”.
Iga recalls the morning after Britain voted to leave the European Union all too well: “A man opened his window
