I have joined a book club (one of my New Year’s suggestions), perhaps better known as a booze club. Our event is actually more of a book swap; everyone brings a book or two that they’ve read (and a bottle), talks about them and leaves with another novel or two.

Only two of the group of 10 had actually finished reading a book since last month’s get-together. The Polish girl had struggled with some of the specialist language in a foodie book and her fiancé had refused to explain the sexual words in 50 Shades while two kids peered at them over their seats during a flight; another member had made reading her New Year’s priority but had been distracted by fashion magazines; while a third wasn’t enjoying 50 Shades but was determined to finish it. She left with the rest of the trilogy.

Our host referred to one of her favourite reads as a ‘coffee shop winner.’ When asked to clarify, she said, ‘Either a Costa winner or Richard & Judy Book Club winner or something.’ It was a typical girly evening where the conversation switched between work, culture and sex.

I have let Hot Danish know that it will be my turn to host the book club in July. ‘How many girls will there be?,’ he asked. ‘What will I do? Will I have to go out?,’ he wanted to know. ‘Oh no,’ I replied. ‘The host’s guy gets to play the role of the naked butler.’ HD stretched his legs out in front of him and did some arm presses using the back of the sofa.