The stony ledge under Blackpool’s north pier is no place to find rest. The Irish Sea, whipped by a bitter wind, crashes onto the shore, hurling spray landwards and soaking the ledge. For several months last year, this is where Eve Monks slept. “I just sat there and cried all night, that my life had come to this,” says the 38-year-old, recalling her first night under the pier. “I kept asking God to take me as I didn’t want to be here at all.”