Imagine them dumping the 12-inch bagful on the counter of the Red Cross shop with a mournful sigh, saying 'We just don't laugh together any more.'
I, however, was in the mood for love, because I found myself buying my first ever Barbara Cartland novel, enticingly called Journey To Paradise. I felt as though this was a female rite of passage that I was coming to embarrassingly late.
Also, it was only 80p. Although, considering the original price was 30p, I'm not sure it was the sound investment it initially appeared.
The opening page reveals something of the female peril ahead – '…he is an experienced husband. He will know how to deal with your somewhat exceptional qualities, Kamala' – but it also reveals a scathing review by a previous owner, expressed in brisk, dismissive and I would say rather mature strokes of biro…