Frankie, by Graham Norton

Orphaned at 10, married off at 18, Frances Howe has had a difficult but adventurous life. From County Cork to London to New York, family, lovers and employers hinder her progress as much as help, but a good friend sustains her throughout. In her 80s and laid up with a broken ankle, Frankie shares tales of her life with a young carer who hails from her part of Ireland. Chapters alternate between the present day growing relationship of Frankie and her carer, Damien, and episodes in her past - starting in 1950s rural Ireland. But it is a strange structure; Damien is thinly drawn, clearly there just to hear Frankie’s stories, but she doesn’t actually tell them - they are written in third person and told as if in real time, with no reflection. Then the stories stop with her return to London in the 1980s, apart from a brief postscript from her best friend Nor – filling in the gap for Damien after the caring is done. It’s a moving tale of loss, love and friendship featuring a woman, lacking self-worth and easily pushed around, who slowly grows in confidence as she gains experience. But with the interesting part of her life apparently ending after the age of 50 it feels curiously incomplete, despite a bittersweet ending that is quite predictable.