was born in London and, despite brief trips into the countryside, sheâs always been a city girl at heart. After studying history at Oxford University she entered the allegedly glamorous world of television, beginning her career as tea and coffee coordinator for Nickelodeon U.K. After she progressed to researcher and then to assistant producer, her contracts took her to MTV and finally to the BBC where she worked for over three years.
Since 2000, Jane has enjoyed a double life as a part-time P.A., which has given her more time to write and feel guilty about not going to the gym. She lives in London with her laptop and ever-expanding CD collection. She has never consulted an agony aunt.
Name & Address Withheld is her first novel.
You wouldnât be holding this book if it wasnât for the incredible support and encouragement Iâve received over the years, and Iâd like to thank everyone who has stood by me through the thick (and not-so-thin) versions.
Naming a few names, special thanks and love must go to: Susie, Anthony, Peter, Paul and Omiâfor years of unconditional love, support (emotional and financial), for believing in me and for never being disappointed that I didnât get a real job. Carole Blakeâfor picking me out of the slush pile, continued encouragement and for never doubting it would happen (or not telling me if you did!). Also to Isobel and the whole team at Blake Friedmann. Sam Bell at Red Dress Inkâfor seeing what the others didnât and helping Matt realize his potential. Kate Pattenâfor all your invaluable advice on everything, for endless cups of tea, mutual appreciation and for such happy days at no.95. Charlotte Cameronâfor spectacular sounding-board properties, wise words, SoCeLo, mix tapes and martinis. Louise Hooperâfor high-energy positivity and fast-talking since 1979. Melissa Andrewesâfor pedantic proofreading and for encouraging me to exercise. Alice and Stuart Morganâfor the temporary roof over my head and boundless enthusiasm. Chris Goreâfor so much support at the outset and for almost as many pizzas as I got rejection letters.
Many thanks also to: Steve, Jan, Tanya, John and Tracy Arie, Gemma Brown, Elton Charles, Camilla and Sue Codrington, Sarah Cohen, Marten Foxon, Mary Ann Graziano, Mandy Key, Hilary Love, James Meikle, Fred Metcalf, Mandy Moore, Siobhan Mulholland, Patsy Newey, Notting Hill and Ealing High School, The Parises, Sandy Paterson, Chris, Lavender, Laura and Alice Patten, The Smails, Julia Stones, Annabelle Tym and Lizzie Tyrrell.
And finally, to the creators of Sex and the City and The West Wingâfor making British winters a little less gray.
Why is it that we always want what we canât have? It doesnât matter whether itâs that Prada bag, Nikeâs latest offering to trainer culture, Jennifer Anistonâs hair, Jennifer Anistonâs husband, George Clooney or the senior school sweetheart; there are times in our lives when we thinkâno, we knowâthat life would be complete if only we had the item in question. By the same token it is a human failing that we rarely realise what we do have until it is no longer ours to keep. Both have happened to me more often than I would care to remember.
Mark was all I ever wanted between the ages of fifteen and sixteen. My school exercise books were littered with his name, hearts with our initials carved by my lust during double English and, most importantly, our percentage of compatibility which I once worked out to be eighty-four per cent. A miscalculation. I should have spent more time paying attention in maths. When he finally asked me out the week after my seventeenth birthdayâbecause, I now fear, he had asked everyone else out alreadyâI thought I was going to burst with pleasure. It was a match made in heavenâI had the soft-focus daydreams to prove it.
For five weeks it was the real hand-holding thing. My months of background research paid off and I had all the right answers to his questions and all the right cassettes in my collection. I was In Love. Then the object of my misplaced affection stole my virginity before chucking me publicly and unceremoniously just before the end of term. My life ended as quickly as it had begun. I wept and fasted, and wept and fasted some more. Then came the hunger and I ate like never before. My adolescence would certainly have been less traumatic without him, but I would have laughed in the face of anyone whoâd tried to tell me at the time. Adult lesson # 1 learned; the hard wayâ¦
âThere you go, love. Have a nice evening.â