I mean, when I think about it, what's more important? Clothes - or the miracle of new life?

My daily Nespresso coffee, an unexpected shaft of sunlight through the window on a winter's day, my bargain Missoni sunglasses (70 percent off!)

This is a test, isn't it? It's like choosing out of three caskets in a fairy tale. Everyone knows the rules. You never choose the gold shiny one. Or even the quite impressive silver one. What you're supposed to do is choose the dull little lead one, and then there's a flash of light and it turns into a mountain of jewels

I know what it's like to squander all your hours and all your tears and all your heart on something which turns out to be nothing. Don't waste your time.

The thing with giving up is you never know. You never know whether you could have done the job. And I'm sick of not knowing about my life.

My real name is Madeleine Wickham, under which I write dramas with an edge of humour. As Sophie Kinsella its fast, all-out comedies, such as the Shopaholic series.

It's a GIRL. It's a little girl, with scrunched-up petal lips and a tuft of dark hair and hands in tiny fits, up by her ears. All that time, that's who was in there. And it's weird, but the minute I saw her I just thought: IT'S YOU. Of course it is.