Much of the fun has disappeared from the book pages with the death in January of Fay Weldon at 91.

For journalists, she was a gift, being prolific, playful and madly quotable - for four decades.

The archetypal northLondon female novelist, with children underfoot - she said her sentences were short because she was constantly interrupted - she might open her door with ‘We have no coffee, or tea, or milk. So you’ll have to have wine [at 10am] or Cup-a-Soup.’

Sheer mischievousness impelled her to tell audiences she had not read her latest novel. 'I wrote it, which is a different matter.’ If challenged for contradicting herself, she would reply, ‘But what I say is only a first draft.’

‘Did I write that?’ she’d often