As a child I buried myself in books both at home in Essex and at my grandparents’ houses in Cornwall, where I spent a large part of my time, and where many of my stories are now set. Books and later films were an escape not just from where I was but who I was, which, as I saw it, was pretty much a geek. They gave me the freedom to become someone else, from George in the Famous Five to Velvet Brown winning the Grand National to Baby dancing the Chachacha with Johnny Castle.

As an adult I worked my way through a degree in drama, an MA in political communications and jobs from a runner for a TV company to radio newsreader to special adviser to the Prime Minister. Kind of varied, but all because I figured they would make me into the kind of person I wrote stories about in my head – someone interesting. It took a long time to realise that writing the stories was more exciting than my day job. That I was never going to get to be a war correspondent, or champion ballroom dancer, or win the grand national. But by writing down what was in my head I could be anyone and give myself whatever ending I wanted.