

Nearly didn‘t read it, glad I did. This is not *the* mid-life novel; the protagonist‘s life bears no resemblance to mine, nor that of any other woman I know. She is the most self-absorbed, self-indulgent person you‘ll probably ever hear from yet despite that I found this utterly compelling, with a knowingness I suspect you‘ll recognise if you too are mid-40s. I also found the absurdity quite good fun in a way I didn‘t expect.