Normally I hate surprise parties. I don’t hate them as much as I hate fancy dress parties, but surprise parties are usually right up there on my big list of Parties That Must Be Avoided At Any Cost.

But any surprise party that ends with Sheree Gregan in tears after the truly big surprise turns out to be that she has a dead husband is a good party, by my reckoning. And any surprise party that has, as an added two-for-one bonus deal, the news that her dearest brother Nicky was with the guy when he died, now that’s my kind of party.

Garth. Who in their right mind would marry someone named Garth? Mind you, since when has Sheree ever been in what you’d call a ‘right’ mind? Still, it’s good to know Sheree has a skeleton in her closet, especially seeing as it’s an actual skeleton.

Speaking of people not in their right mind, the alliance that seems to have sprung up between the She Bitch and my mother is something of a worry. Clearly pregnancy, coupled with the fact her business is slowly going down the toilet, has caused some kind of hormonal meltdown in Mum’s head. Talk about like daughter, like mother; making the big mistake of trusting a Gregan. I wash my hands of this particular brand of lunacy.

But Garth, on the other hand; now, the story of Garth interests me.

Garth. What sort of name is that to give a child? The poor bastard’s probably better off dead.