Terms of Inheritance, by Michelle Upton

Queensland hotel and casino tycoon Jacki Turner has a diagnosis of terminal cancer and gives each of her four daughters a task to achieve in the next year, in order to inherit her multi millions. All must succeed, or her money goes to an animal charity. Youngest daughter Jess, who runs her own design business, must sustain a relationship for longer than three months. Disability support worker Mel, who is overweight and massively in debt, must run a marathon. Mum-of-three Rose, a widowed accountant who has been estranged from her mother since her husband died, has to write and publish a children’s book. Eldest Isla runs her own chain of jewellery stores and idolises Jacki, so is baffled to be told to find her real self. An intriguing premise is not well executed, slabs of exposition managing to omit key details. Switching points of view between all four sisters, and sometimes Jacki, serves well to demonstrate the tensions and nuance of mother-daughter relationships, but there is sloppiness in the detail, particularly around timelines. Rose is the only fully-fleshed character; her sisters a somewhat sketchy support act, although the outcome of Jess’s relationship woes is neat. It’s all about mothering, or the lack of it, but love and good intentions win out, apparently, in a resolution that is eye-rollingly nonsensical.

Hacks, Season 2

Everyone’s story arcs go full circle via a road trip in this second outing of the odd couple of modern comedy, Boomer Deborah and Millennial Ava. It’s not as funny as the first but there is some gold, such as the lesbian cruise gig. The trope of the incompetent nepo baby receptionist and the long suffering manager is annoying, but at least serves a purpose in the story of Ava and Deborah’s law suit and their careers. Whereas the tale of Business Manager Marcus’s commitment issues and subsequent cockups is just irritating. Jean Smart is sublime as ageing comedy legend Deborah Vance, desperate for a second coming. It’s worth watching just for her performance. The show maintains a nice balance between comedy and drama, which allows for growth but never lapses into sentimentality. Season 3 has been delayed by Smart’s heart surgery and the Hollywood writers’ strike.

Best of Friends, by Kamila Shamsie

This is a book of two distinct parts. The first is set in Karachi in 1988, where 14-year-old best friends, Maryam and Zahra, attend an exclusive private school. It’s a heady time of self-discovery, with a growing awareness of bodies and sexuality, amid a turbulent political situation in Pakistan. The end of the Zia dictatorship and the advent of Benazir Bhutto makes the girls feel anything is possible, especially for those in their privileged positions. But a disturbing and frightening incident sparks big changes, especially for Maryam, and has repercussions that echo into the future. Thirty years later in London, Maryam finances tech start-ups while Zara is a human rights lawyer and civil liberties campaigner. Despite their fundamental differences they remain best friends, but this comes into question when a murky figure from their past enters the picture. Part one is hugely evocative of time and place and perfectly captures the awkward anticipation of adolescent girls, however privileged. Part two is less successful, the overweening privilege of expats less tolerable in adult women. It is really difficult to understand how the friendship can endure their major differences and the ending is plain puzzling.

Tales From the Folly, by Ben Aaronovitch

This short story collection is set in the world of the Rivers of London, half featuring Peter Grant and half other characters. The tales feature less of the dark violence that is a hallmark of the series, but just as much of the sardonic wit. This gives a lighter tone overall than the novels and novellas. A couple of the ‘others’ stories have been previously published along with an earlier novella, but most are new and fill in little gaps in the Rivers’ saga. They provide an enjoyable stopgap for Rivers of London addicts while waiting for the next full tale to hit the shelves.

Ted Lasso season 3 (AppleTv+)

Richmond FC has made it into the Premier League and everyone is tipping them to bomb out and be relegated straight back down. A star recruit looks likely to defy the critics, but the sugar hit doesn’t last. Can Ted reinstil the joy and save the season, or is he too distracted by missing his son and resenting his ex-wife’s new relationship? Meanwhile, Rebecca wants a baby; Keely’s love life takes a different turn after Roy dumps her; and Nate struggles to maintain the mongrel at West Ham. Season 1 was sublime, season 2 was patchy and season 3 falls somewhere in between, with a few episodes a bit meh and some causing gales of out-loud laughter. It finishes, as would be expected, on a high, but is nonetheless a satisfying end to a show that, for all its flaws, is just plain nice. Keep your Successions, with not one redeemable nor likeable character, Ted Lasso takes the chocolates every time.

The Long Game, by Simon Rowell

Zoe Mayer has just returned to her job with the homicide squad, after a break following her role in thwarting a terrorist attack at the MCG. Her first case back is the stabbing murder of a surfer on the Mornington Peninsula, which seems relatively straightforward, until a journalist alerts her to some odd coincidences with other cases. Zoe digs deeper, battling her colleagues as well as her personal trauma in an effort to find the truth. The premise of a detective with a service dog is really interesting and the intermittent flashbacks when Zoe is under pressure are a clever way of explaining the background circumstances and how they affect her work and life. It is a pity then that the plot lacks credibility and the writing is pedestrian at best. Zoe seemingly has no friends or family and her boyfriend is only there to serve a plot element; their sex scene is cringeworthy. The only fully rounded character is Harry, the service dog. It’s a suspenseful story and an easy read, but it could have been so much better.

Pineapple Street, by Jenny Jackson

Wealthy New York real estate tycoons, the patrician Stockport family live on the fruit streets of Brooklyn – Orange, Cranberry and Pineapple. The old family mansion on Pineapple is now occupied by son Cord and his outsider wife, Sasha. Elder daughter Darley also married out – to Korean finance whiz Malcolm, while much younger daughter Georgiana is single. All three children have an enormous capacity for love, but remain in thrall to the Family – to the cost of their relationships. Sasha is the biggest victim of this family dynamic. She married Cord for love, despite the red flags. and her reward is to be dubbed the Golddigger by his sisters. Can she break free and assert herself without losing her marriage? This novel starts off well and looks promising for a while, but ultimately doesn’t really go anywhere. Jenny Jackson ties herself in knots trying to paint everyone as fully rounded and redeemable characters despite their often despicable behaviour. It doesn’t quite work.

Queen Charlotte (Netflix)

Subtitled A Bridgerton Story, this six-part series is not from the Julia Quinn books, which is to its benefit. Considerably darker and sadder than its progenitor, it tells the story of the madness of King George III, from the point of view of his wife. Creator Shonda Rhimes makes it clear from the start that this is not history, but fiction inspired by real people. Good casting beautifully matches the younger versions of Queen Charlotte, Lady Danbury and Viscountess Violet Bridgerton with the originals, who also appear in flash forwards. It shares the sumptuous costumes and satirical edge of the first two Bridgerton series, as well as a core belief in true love as the basis of a good marriage. But it also portrays the difficult position of women faced with few choices in how they live their lives. It has more depth and substance than the Bridgerton series, but is just as entertaining. It would be good if there were more such spinoffs.