Showing results by narrator "Claudia Winkleman" in All Categories

Victoria Coren Mitchell meets some fascinating women to explore the journeys they have made in the cars that they have known - and the sorts of things they shout in traffic. Hear what Dawn wrote on the back of her first car; find out which comedian totalled her beloved Cortina; and discover the advantages of the refrigerated glove compartment. Sarah Millican describes a traffic jam that lead to some desperate measures, Sheila Hancock explains how the trick of getting older is actually to speed up and Jo Brand recounts how her car became an impromptu counselling couch for comedians.

These are the memoirs of ME, Holly Hopkinson, aged almost 10, except without any of the rubbish adults usually put in, thank you very much. My dad just lost his job, which means me and the rest of my family have to leave London and move to the middle of nowhere, which is a TOTAL DISASTER! There’s no Wi-Fi, the local kids are FERAL and there’s animal poo EVERYWHERE. But then for my birthday, my eccentric aunt gave me a magic pocket watch, which I can use to hypnotise and control people.

Earlier this year, me and the rest of my family had to move to the middle of nowhere after my dad lost his job. Now my mum has just lost her job as well, and I must once again save my family from financial ruin and catastrophe - while dealing with silent brother Harold’s girl drama and sorting out my older sister, Harmony, who has joined the protests about a new housing development in the village. Thank goodness I am armed with my Magic Pocket Watch.

Welcome to volume III of my memoirs—with me, Holly Hopkinson, still in the middle of flipping nowhere, and still on the brink of MULTIPLE CATASTROPHES, like my parents announcing that we might be moving STATESIDE. Good thing my sister is still into organising protests, thank you very much. PLUS Mum is about to lose what little money we have left on a vegetable shop, there's been a biscuit-fight fiasco in the village, and a family secret I uncovered means my suitcase is packed, my goodbyes are prepared—life is cruel at 12.