Taking its cue from Diary of a Provincial Lady, EM Delafield’s dry-witted classic of domesticity and other vexations, Diary Of A Suburban Lady is a comic novel about the vicissitudes of domestic life chez frantic narrator Liz Dashwood. Like Bridget Jones (the third) without the death. Like Fleabag without the glamour or the priest and in a book. Like Nina Stibbe before she thinks of it.

From the deep rage of knowing where to find every single thing your husband is looking for to the joy of a friend’s longed-for pregnancy, here is the pleasurable stab of fellow feeling you get over drinks with friends. Liz records her ups and downs, including the love of a good cat (up), not being able to find a babysitter (secret up) and the question of what ‘we’ really means when it comes to fixing the dishwasher (definitely, definitely down).

Spiky, charming and most of all loving, it’s a hilarious skewering of the sweetness and nightmare that is modern family life.