This is the second time I've read this book, so I knew in advance I was going to enjoy it. Chick lit is one of my favourite escapist genres, but I'm pretty selective - there are only a few authors who are really good, and Chrissie Manby is one of them. Her books don't always work as well as each other, but she does always have an interesting premise.
This, probably my favourite of hers, is no exception. The narrator is Sophie, your standard chick lit heroine - she's in her twenties, she's unmarried, she lives in London, she has a job she's not very happy with, and she has a patently unsatisfactory boyfriend whom she only THINKS she's happy with. So far, so many other pastal-coloured paperbacks. But then, upon being dumped by the unsatisfactory boyfriend on the eve of a long-anticipated holiday to Majorca, Sophie decides - egged on by her sister - to pretend that she's gone on holiday alone, but hide at home instead. Now that's not a story I think is told often.
And it's a terrific plot. The majority of the action of the novel takes place within the physical confines of Sophie's small, dreary London flat. And if that sounds dull, it's not. It's a page turner! The scene opens up a bit and then a lot later on, but a good two thirds of the book stays between Sophie's four narrow walls. It's funny, it's exciting, and it's heartwarming. Sophie and her sister Claire are very well-drawn, the errant boyfriend Callum less so (it's always a flaw in these books where the heroine is with or has recently split from a dork, it's never clear why she was with him in the first place).
Altogether, I prefer this one to my previous Chrissie Manby favourite, Getting Over Mr Right. I'd say this was almost the perfect example of how to do chick lit really well. And it will only take you an afternoon to read. High recommended.