Helen, who I think has enjoyed my rhubarb wine in the past, said "Having known you for over ten years, I feel safe in asking for something different." I handed her a glass of real red. Maureen took a sip from the offending glass and gurned. I don't know what they're complaining about. The wine is pink, sparkling and dry and I think really rather nice. They know nothing.
It was Book Group round ours, where we were discussing Death and the Penguin by Andrey Kurkov. I voted it a 'Miss', but actually, having heard the discussion, began to change my mind. There is a depth and a coldness to it that have merit.