When I read reviews by reviewers who say they ‘identified with the heroine’, I’m sometimes a bit bemused: I’m never quite sure how one can identify with a witch, or pointy-eared princess, or red-eyed demoness. I probably lead a very dull life.
However, I really, really did identify with this one. Seventy-one-year-old Sandy has had enough: enough of cooking turkeys (which, as a vegetarian, she doesn’t eat), enough pies and enough shortbread cookies. She’s had enough bickering, feuds over the Xmas dinner goodies, and fisticuffs with the mince pies. Solution? Run away. Well, not so much run away, as down tools and leave them all to it. I’m not in my seventies, and I do have a very lovely family, but I have had enough of cooking turkeys, fat-splattered ovens, and endless washing up. Don’t tell anyone, but I really would like to take a leaf out of Sandy’s book and do a flit!
Sandy picks what she hopes will be the perfect spot to enjoy her fuss-free Xmas and finds an expected but very welcome little bit of icing on her own Xmas cake in the form of a gentleman.
A sweet and entertaining little seasonal tale sprinkled with charm, appeal, and feel-good: qualities I am beginning to become accustomed to from this author who knows how to strike the right chords.