I came upon this book at a time when I was jaded - no, angry - at the formulaic churn of 'chick lit' books that were prominently displayed in WH Smiths. Fed up with those ghastly women with their socially pointless jobs on the periphery of media, and their obsessions with fashion, appearance & conspicuously consuming a 'lifestyle'. Devoid of intellect (ie thick), hobbies or passion, disconnected from society, they obsessed only about hooking some boring, emotionally-stunted but rich man so they could embark on the lifestyle of discreet whoredom for which they'd been brought up.
And then this book appeared, as a present, and told the story of a woman who resembled the women I knew in my ward, who came to my surgery and to public meetings. Life hadn't dealt them a great hand of cards and they knew they had to fight for everything they needed. And fight they did.
I imagine it feels quite dated now, but at the time it uplifted me more than any book with 'feelgood' in its blurb