READING BETWEEN THE LINES "Thoroughly enjoyable... a real page turner..." U Magazine 'Reading Between the Lines' will always be special to me because it was my first published novel. As an exciting bonus, it won the RNA New Writer's Award, WH Smith Fresh Talent, and jumped into the Sunday Times Top Ten in the first week. There are photos on the 'events' page.

I wrote 'Reading Between the Lines' because I was inspired by the resolve of the students I'd met whilst teaching Adult Basic Skills. It had struck me that Oxford was a funny place - there were students surrounded by the beauty of the historic libraries while a mile away people were struggling with basic literacy, and there was as much panic either side of that mile. So I wrote about that, and about finding the courage to be yourself, whatever your background suggested - then I found that humour evolved naturally within that scenario, and above all, it became very romantic. Mack will always be a character I hold to my heart. Oh, and Fleabag is in fact, my black cat, Fred. No thin disguise even. Let's just hope they haven't worked out how to use telephones...

"A witty and observant new comedy from an award-winning new writer" - Books Magazine

Buy this novel from Amazon.co.uk

Excerpt...

Annelies looked at the tea, and put out a shaky hand to pick up the mug. Julia tried to understand the depth of her grief. She must have been very attached to that particular fish. Perhaps the stomping across the ceiling last night had been Annelies working out which one had met its death in Fleabag's jaws. Still, she had five others to console herself with, Julia thought, and immediately felt heartless. Annelies took a sip of tea and grimaced.

'Do you have any honey? she asked weakly.

'Honey?' Julia's eyebrows shot up, but she immediately began a futile search in her jar cupboard. 'Er, I've got marmalade? I suppose that's not the same is it?'

'It doesn't matter,' Annelies said, her voice breaking with emotion. 'Nothing matters any more.'

Blimey, Julia thought. This must have been some fish. Judging by the bleak despair plastered across Annelies's face, it was a fish in a million. Annelies looked as if life had simply lost its meaning.

'How about if I go to the fish shop - the fish centre right now? You could wait here, and I'd be back before you knew it. I think it's only a couple of streets away, and I know they're open on Sundays because when I first found it it was a Sunday and I had a look around.' She tried to sound coaxing. 'Why don't you tell my what type of fish you'd like? They've got all types.'

'It's, it's...' Annelies tried to speak, but had problems. Julia watched patiently. 'It's...'

She gave up, and started crying again. Julia watched with growing horror as Fleabag decided to come into the kitchen and sniff Annelies's legs. She shooed him away and he looked at her appealingly.

'Piss off,' she mouthed at him.

'Oh Julia!' Annelies's blotchy face appeared again from under her hanky. 'It's so awful. I'm so unhappy.'

'I'll get the fish now. You can wait here, and I'll be back in no time,' Julia decided, feeling that some action had to be taken before Annelies threw herself out of the window and realised that she was on the ground floor. 'I'll just get a pretty one, shall I?'

'It's not the fish,' Annelies blubbered. 'That just made it w-worse. It's - it's Stig.'

'Stig?' Julia paused as she was about to make a dash for the door. 'Your boyfriend?'

'He's not my boyfriend any more!' Annelies wailed. 'He's left me for s-somebody else!'

'Oh no'. Julia returned quietly to her seat. It all became clearer. She had started to think that Annelies was over-reacting, but she hated to say so. As Annelies blew her nose robustly, Julia wondered if there was anything she could possibly do. She could have gone out and bought Annelies another fish, very similar to the last one, so similar that you might not notice the difference. But a boyfriend? That was a bit more tricky.

'H-he's gone to the Alps. Without m-me. And taken h-her,' she stumbled on. 'That's why I was g-going to go pot-holing. To take my mind off things.'

'That sounds very sensible,' Julia said, trying to look motherly. 'I can see how pot-holing might take your mind off things. I think you should go.'

'He only told me last week,' Annelies continued. 'I think I was in shock. That's why I said I'd go p-pot holing with my friends.'

'Right, well, I still think you should go away with your friends.'

'B-but they all know him. We used to do that all the time together. I can't go pot-holing. Stig used to go pot-holing with me. I can never pot-hole any more!'

She collapsed into tears again. Julia sighed, and gave up her attempts to be sensible. Didn't she know herself what it was like to feel this way? Hadn't she once decided that breathing itself had to stop because the man she thought she loved was engaged in the same activity somewhere else? Annelies cried herself into exhaustion and ultimately produced a series of soft coos, like a very tired woodpigeon. She blinked bulging eyes in Julia's direction. Julia smiled at her.

'So Annelies,' Julia said. 'Let's start by emptying your bedsit of his belongings and having a bonfire in the garden, shall we?'

Buy this novel from Amazon.co.uk

also available

Reading Between The Lines

Going Against The Grain

Beating About The Bush

Rising To The Occasion

in association with

amazon logos go here