The Wake-Up Call

by Beth O'Leary

I like Dinah. She never goes the extra mile – she goes just far enough, and I have a lot of respect for that.

(Why is it that when men sweat, it’s sexy, but when I sweat, I look like I’ve been crossbred with a tomato?)

At least I’m consistent. Not easily swayed by, you know, reality.

‘You tell Barclays they can shove it up their arses!’

Nativity!, which my mother always staunchly declared was the world’s best Christmas film, though my dad was Die Hard all the way.