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|summary=Not quite Agatha Christie, but certainly harmless enough. Characters are realistic and likable likeable and you find yourself wanting happy endings for them even if you can’t relate to them.

In the spirit of fairness, I’m going to start by saying this: at the doddering age of twenty -five, I am ten years too old for this book. I have crested the metaphorical hill and regrettably now view the lands of adolescence from a height, trying to remember what it was like to agonise over school and boys and wondering when I got a mortgage and reading glasses. This book was never really intended for me, so on the occasions where I felt myself rolling my eyes at the main character I choose to believe that these are shining examples of realism. After all, I certainly cringe at enough of my own teenage memories.