Partayyy!!!

I know, I know. It's been FAR too long. All I can say in my defence is that I have been wading through rewrites of the new oeuvre, now to be called A Merry Little Christmas, and winging it's way to bookshops near you in October. I have put my poor editor under untold stress by being horrendously late, but she has been very patient about it, and so I was relieved to finally deliver on Monday, as last night was the Harper Collins author party, and it's so much more relaxed if you don't have to grovel...

The HC party is one of the highlights of my year. (What can I say? I don't get out much.) It is also a stonkingly good event. For the last two years it's been held in the Orangery at Kensington Palace (there's posh), and it's such a lot of fun. For a start there's the obligatory celeb spotting (last year Dan Stevens & David Walliams), this year David Nobbs on the way in - I actually spoke to him but didn't realise till afterwards, and  a couple of famous looking women who it was on the tip of my tongue to say hello to, then I realised I only knew them off the telly, but better then that, is meeting up with lots and lots of author mates. Last night did not disappoint, and I was delighted to catch up with my lovely friends Caroline Smailes, Miranda Dickinson, Victoria Connelly, and meet Laura Ziepe, Erin Kaye, Fiona Gibson and Nik Perring. We were all looked after immensely well by the attentive (and devilishly handsome) young waiters, who had the knack of appearing with more champagne, just as soon as your glass was empty...And we were also thoroughly spoilt by the fabulous brilliant team at Avon, who made sure glasses were never empty and we were fed sushi (which I've never had before) and cake. Thank you ladies, I had a blast.

Sadly I never know when to call it a day, and suddenly realising it was 10.20, had to hot foot it for a cab (again, the wonderful staff calmly walked into the road and hailed me a cab, obviously aware I wasn't quite up to the task) to get me to Victoria. The cab took FOREVER. And I ended up getting to Victoria after 11.30, having just missed the last train home. Stupidly I queued for a burger and didn't take the wise advice of the guys in the queue behind me who were going my way and discovered that if they left burgerless and headed for Clapham Junction they'd pick up the Waterloo train. Apart from sushi and champagne I hadn't had much in the way of sustenance...

So thanks to my greed, I decided to just get on trains and keep going south as far as I could. Always a good plan. Which is how I ended up in West Croydon some time after midnight, suddenly the last person in the carriage. I then had to hot foot it over the bridge to catch a train to Sutton, where I also ended up the last person in the carriage, but miraculously all the other carriages were full as I still had to wait for a cab. I then spent a small fortune on getting home, but I had a very chatty and helpful cab driver and I was ringing Spouse with updates on my whereabouts (oh how times change - in my salad days I once fell asleep on the train and ended up at Dorking, with no money and no means of communication. I BEGGED the driver to stop at my station, where I then had to climb over an eight foot high fence to escape), so I made it home by 1am. A slightly more epic journey home then intended, but champagne will see you through a lot of travel trauma.

It is also exceptionally good for ensuring your head isn't too bad in the morning. An entirely higher class of hangover all together.

Like I say, I don't get out much, but it's always a blast to be with like minded people, talking bollocks (or not) about books, and best of all getting to be a grown up and an author for the night. Even if I don't always behave in an entirely grown up fashion....