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Video Exclusive: Dawn French introduces her new book, According to Yes

Video Exclusive: Dawn French introduces her new book, According to Yes

Read an extract from the book too!

Posted on 2nd October 2015 by Dawn French
Britain's favourite wide-eyed, sleek-bobbed, and foul-mouthed (you've been warned!) funny lady introduces her new book, According to Yes. The uproarious book is based on her stint as a nanny on the other side of the Atlantic - and we have it on good authority that there is 'lots of sex' in it.

Out on the 22nd October, you can pre-order your copy now at a stonkingly good price.

Rememeber I said 'foul-mouthed'...?! Well, here is the extract:

 

ACT 1

Tested

Fifty-seven 

Fifty-eight

Fifty-nine . . . Fuck. 

Yet again, Rosie Kitto’s belly was empty. No  baby. Why did they bother to  wait the full  three minutes? As  much as she knew anything, she knew there was no  chance, but his  darling desperate face persuaded her to  see it  through. Along with that second thin blue line on  the pregnancy test, all  trace of hope for  a future with him failed to show up.

Funny how a moment so  anticipated can be  so  fleeting and mundane in  its  failure. There was no  mighty crash when the hope toppled, only a quiet whimper.

That hope deserved a bigger send off. Once, it had been giant.

 

Landed

As if  tightly choreographed by  Pina Bausch, every puffy face in  every serried row on  the British Airways 747  is obediently upturned, staring at the seatbelt sign overhead. An  elastic moment where a random group of  strangers are united, some don’t even breathe so  suspended are they. Bing bong. The familiar cue releases them from their airline aspic, and all  at once the plane bursts into a chaotic scuffle of bod- ies  racing to grab their belongings, rushing to be first to stand still in  a queue to  get  off.  Everyone is  frazzled, perhaps it’s the lack of  fresh air that makes people so  grumpy. They all seem to  have somewhere very very important to  be.  Some- where that just can’t wait. So,  come on,  hurry up.  Me  first.

Shuffle. Push. Jostle.

In  26A,  Rosie is  the only person who remains seated. She gazes calmly out of the window with her forehead tilted onto the glass. She has been sitting just like this for  the best part of the journey, lost in  thought. No,  not lost. Found in  thought. 

Thinking such a lot,  working out how she feels about flying away from everything and everyone that she knows and start- ing  an impetuous new adventure like this. She feels strangely calm, accepting. She has surely surrendered  to  her future, whatever it  might bring. So  why is  she the only one still sit- ting, whilst the others have filed off  the plane in an impatient orderly line, exiting past the very polite, well-rehearsed air stewardesses,

‘Thank you for  flying British Airways.' 

‘Thank you.’

‘Thank you for  flying with us  today.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Have a lovely day.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Goodbye.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Thank you for  flying British Airways.’

‘Cheerio.’

‘Thank you.’ 

‘Thank you.’

‘Yes,  thank you, yes, get  off, yes, go away, sod off, goodbye.’ Why isn’t she moving?

You know that tiny fragment of time, just exactly before the point of  no  return? The golden moment where you might . . . could . . . just maybe COULD change your mind, and reverse it all?  Take it all back, say no,  don’t jump, be safe, go home. That moment? That’s where Rosie is. Part of her wants to remain on the plane and let it bounce her back home on its return journey with all  the new crew that will  come aboard, fresh faced, fresh make up,  fresh hairdo, fresh smell. Spit spot. Bound for  home. For   home.  For   lovely familiar  drizzly  comfy old   England. Where, even if she knows it’s wrong, at least she knows how to  be.  That’s where Rosie Kitto, thirty-eight, primary school teacher, is assuredly grown up,  reliable and emotionally tuned in.  This new Rosie Kitto seems to  be  running away like a seriously immature selfish twit. Very ungrown up.

Who is she?

Well, she is the person who, a couple of weeks ago, said no to all the even keel, and yes to grabbing life  by  the throat, yes to  jumping off  the edge, yes to  what the hell’s it  going to  be like?, yes to being afraid.YES,YES,YES PLEASE!

That’s right.

So,  get  out of  your seat, Rosie, this is  New York . . . here goes . . . COME ON!!

‘Thank you for  flying British Airways today, goodbye.’

Dawn French