Your relationship with your favourite book is not unlike what you have with your most favourite person in the world – they drive you nuts, they have ridiculous quirks, they can quite possibly annoy the bloody crap out of you, but you still love the heck out of them, you find them hilarious and you want to spend all your time with them.
That’s me and Tess. So many times have I cursed her idiodicy for listening to her equally idiotic mother, her foolishness for getting back on that bloody cab with that unfortunately (for Tess) named Alec d’Urberville, for that stupid note under the rug. Oh the pain! The PAIN!
