My favourite novelists are repressed homosexuals who write in roundabout, elegant prose. Henry James and E. M. Forster are funny in a muffled way, prodding staid characters towards tragic or comic conclusions respectively. A vase or an engagement may be broken during the course of the plot, but no one gets unnecessarily continental or teary about it. When the novels finish, no matter what's gone on with the groundskeeper or the Italian sleazebag, it is made perfectly . . .

We liked the sound of the Flower Appreciation Society right from hearing the name. There was a ring to it that seemed to say that florists Ellie Jauncey and Anna Day were doing something rather interesting. Indeed, the pair use native British flowers, a surprisingly rare find among florists, and eschew formal arrangements for natural ones that let the flowers just be flowers. For all their creative prowess, Ellie and Anna are a down-to-earth pair. Anna is training to . . .