Belle de Jour – The Diary of a London Call Girl
Not only is it an interesting insight into the slightly seedy world of London call girls, but the woman should plainly give up and become a writer. She’s very good*…
*at writing. I’ve no idea of how her skills rate in the call girl world…

Petersfield was playing host to a Christmas extravaganza, complete with a grotto, two Father Christmas’s and a music stage. Previous years had been, frankly, dire, and something had to be done about it this year. It was a good turnout too – I had no idea there were so many people under 50 years old in the town.
I located one of the Father Christmas’s, walked over and marvelled at the magical effect he was having on the children. He certainly looked the part – covered in a big red suit, fatherly spectacles hanging on the end of his nose, shaking all the children’s hands and merrily booming “ho ho ho” at regular intervals. They wanted to hug him, talk to him, get presents for him, and he responded to them all, handing out gifts and making them smile and giving a little magic to their night on the town.
Father Christmas spotted me watching in admiration. I walked over, and smiled.
“Hello, dad,” I said.