Suzie hasn’t eaten a carb since 2015, and what she’s lost in body fat she’s gained in meanness.

‘How did he look?’ ‘Fat, really fat. Bright red zit on the end of his nose. Losing his hair. Revolting. I almost threw up in my purse.’

But your mom, and your sister? When they’re on a roll, they make Cruella de Vil look like a pushover. They’d give Cersei Lannister from Game of Thrones a self-worth problem. They’d eat Regina George whole, and have room left over for Nurse Ratched.

I scoot onto some rental sites, looking for somewhere cosy and pretty and safe. Somewhere I can be me, but a better version of me. Somewhere I can recreate myself, and not play the role of the girl-who-was-dumped. I desperately need to not be her anymore, or I’m going to end up alone and surrounded by cats, watching my damn wedding video through my cataracts when I’m ninety.

He looks a little misty-eyed as we walk, and says: ‘The pubs. The pubs were great. And the cursing– they curse at everything!’ Mom makes him put dollars in a swear jar at home, which is a shame, because he loves a good swear– it’s one of his greatest pleasures in life. Sometimes you overhear him in his den, cursing away just for the fun of it.

Georgina is my daughter– although I sometimes wonder about that. I think it’s entirely possible my ex-wife had some kind of liaison with Satan. You’ll meet her in due course. I suggest adopting the brace position at all times.

‘Is that woman a professional bitch,’ I ask, ‘or just a talented amateur?’

My Review:

My infatuation with Debbie Johnson has only deepened with this cleverly amusing tale. I adore and covet her brilliant word skills and wily humor. My cheeks are a tad sore from the constant smirking I seemed to be doing during my delighted perusal. Her characters are authentic, quirky, and unfailingly endearingly. I will have to go through the couch cushions and crush my piggy bank for the coin to amass as many of her books as can be squeezed out of Amazon.