Q. On holiday in Greece this summer there was an area of unexpected tension in our house party. As we lay by the pool it seemed that everyone was reading either Wicked! by Jilly Cooper, or A Much Married Man by Nicholas Coleridge, or Title Deeds by Liza Campbell, or The Guynd by Belinda Rathbone. This meant that at no time could you enjoy discussing any of those titles you had read or were reading yourself because, as soon as you started, you would elicit a scream from a neighbour begging you to stop on the grounds that they hadn’t read it yet or hadn’t yet reached the passage you were talking about. Mary, this was frustrating to say the least. It meant stimulating conversation was virtually barred. How could we have managed this better?
A.E., Pewsey, Wilts
A.
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