‘If I’d known how much work was involved,’ Vicky moans one evening when her sister-in-law phones to see how she’s getting on, ‘I never would have done this.’

‘What kind of work? Still sorting out your flat?’

‘How can a flat this small contain so much junk? How have I managed to accumulate this much crap in so short a time? I’ve only had this flat two years, and now it’s stuffed to the gills. I never realized how much of this stuff is completely superfluous.’ Vicky is sitting on the floor of the tiny second bedroom that doubles as her office, sifting through yet another pile.

Thus far she has found four unpaid bills, all of which are a minimum of four months old, two invitations to parties, both of which she realizes she not only missed, but never even RSVP’d, a press release about a new method of laser vein removal that she’d brought home from work, not wanting anyone to know she was about to get the spider veins in her legs treated, and had been looking for for weeks, her driving licence – how in the hell did that get there? Wasn’t it always in her bag? – and some readers’ letters that she had brought home to respond to, but that had swiftly been eaten up by the pile.

‘And what about the notes?’ Kate says. ‘How are you getting on with telling Amber how you live your life?’

‘So far I’m on page twenty-three,’ Vicky groans. ‘Does that answer your question?’

‘Sounds like far too much work to me. So are we going to see you this weekend? The kids miss you, and frankly I’m not sure how much more of their whining I can take.’

‘Nothing like a bit of guilt to get me down to the country.’ Vicky rolls her eyes. ‘Thanks, Kate.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Okay. Sorry. I’m just stressed. And yes, I’d love to come this weekend. I need a complete break from London, but you have to tell the kids I need a lie-in. The last thing I want to do is arrive in Connecticut next week with enormous bags under my eyes.’

‘God, it’s next week. I can’t believe you’re actually going through with it. I can’t believe it’s happening, and so soon! Oh and before I forget,’ Kate smoothly changes the subject, ‘please please please bring me some tarama from Waitrose.’

Vicky sighs. ‘How many packs this time?’

‘Can you bring ten? That way I can stick them in the freezer until you get back, although if Amber is really being you for four weeks I suppose I can always get her to bring down a load too.’

‘Why not take advantage and get her to bring down fifty?’

Kate starts cackling. ‘Do you know what, that’s a bloody good idea.’

*

Vicky goes to the bathroom and sighs as she scrapes her hair back and examines her spotty chin and bleary eyes in the mirror.

‘God,’ she mutters. ‘I’m thirty-five. I’m not supposed to still be getting bloody spots.’

She is exhausted, had no idea quite how much she would have to do. First there were the notes: copious notes about all her friends, because Amber will have to step into the friendships as if she has always been there – what is the purpose of this swap after all, if not to fully inhabit the life of the swapee?

Ruth

The most important person at Poise!. She’s my extremely able, sparkly assistant (although sparkles are usually only on her T-shirts). She’s very clever, horribly efficient and organized, and usually gets me to where I need to be. She’s also a wonderful foil for Janelle’s assistant, Caroline, who’s bloody terrifying on a good day and monstrous on a bad (remember, Janelle’s the editor). Caroline and Ruth are, bizarrely, friends, which keeps Caroline off my back. However, you shouldn’t have to worry about Caroline as everyone knows you’re my stand-in, so they won’t expect too much, and I’m leaving everything in shape just so you don’t get into trouble. Leona – more on her later – is going to pretty much do my job while I’m gone. You’re going to be fine. Ruth completely adores Crunchie bars, so if you really want to get her on your side bring her a Crunchie when you come back from the canteen. She’ll pretend to be upset because it ruins her diet, but she’ll love you for it.

Leona

I love her, she’s my closest friend at work and will probably become yours. She’s the features editor, which is much like the features director except she gets to do a bit more of the grunt work, and I get to go on snazzier lunches. But don’t tell her I said that. She’s always late for work – has two small kids at home – is funny and sarcastic, and usually wears fantastically expensive designer clothes that are covered with stains, have unravelling hems, and look as though they cost a fiver at Top Shop. She is my port in every storm, and is great for drinks after work, although her nanny finishes at 8 p.m., so you have to get her early. Which reminds me, I don’t even know how much you drink. I always think that Americans don’t drink or smoke at all, and I hope that if that is the case you’ll be able to change that for the four weeks you’re being me, because I have to say I do love a glass of wine, and after about three glasses I start hitting the cigarettes – Marlboro Light.

So, there are my biggest vices. Drinking and social smoking, but if you really really hate smoking, then you won’t have to do it.

Kate and Andy, Luke, Polly and Sophie

Andy’s my younger brother, Kate is his wife and the sister I always wanted, and the three cheeky monkeys obviously my nephew and nieces. Andy basically has the life I always wanted. They live in a fantastic house in the country, and I know you’ll love them because it will remind you of home, although their house is much much smaller and much much dirtier. They do however have big hairy dogs that may remind you of Ginger, and lots of small children who are gorgeous and cuddly. They also have chickens now, but don’t know much about them. Am going to see them before I go so if there’s anything spectacular to report, will do so.

Suffice to say their home is my haven, and I try to go down at least once a month, and preferably twice. I know I’ve written this somewhere else, but I’m out so much during the week, usually to work things, that I tend to be really quiet on the weekend, and if there’s nothing going on I just hop on the train (from Waterloo Station – I’ve left the schedule pinned up on the noticeboard in the kitchen), and spend the weekend with them. The children, by the way, are very easily manipulated by the use of Smarties (the English equivalent of M&Ms). Oh God. I do seem to use chocolate rather a lot to get people on my side, don’t I? – Am feeling very guilty and wondering what you think of me… Still, if you go down laden with tubes of Smarties you’ll definitely be the most popular girl on the block. I have told Luke, Polly and Sophie about this, but they don’t quite understand that a lady with a funny accent will be coming to see them, wearing my clothes, and pretending to be me.

Kate is on hand for anything at all you need. She’s immensely wise and sensible, and always at home – I know you’ll love her.

Vicky continues writing about her friends who are likely to pop up – Deborah, the married one with three children in Hampstead, Jackie, the radio producer, and the rest of the people at work.

And then, of course, there is Jamie Donnelly. Should she write something about Jamie Donnelly? Because she has been seeing him these past few weeks, although mostly late at night, when he phones after a meeting, desperate to see her, but it’s his busiest time, putting together a new comedy show, and she’s hoping it will all change soon. He is so perfect for her; it is so very easy for her to see them together, that she knows it is only a matter of time before he realizes the very same thing.

Because it’s not as if he isn’t keen. And when they are together, their chemistry is undeniable. And he was genuinely disappointed when Vicky told him about the life swap, that she would be in America for four weeks, although she was slightly perturbed when he seemed to perk up after seeing pictures of Amber.

‘She’s a married woman!’ Vicky had attempted a jokey voice. ‘And sleeping with you isn’t part of the swap.’

‘But if you’re going to swap lives then surely it is?’ Jamie had said, admiring Amber’s long legs and flat stomach. ‘Christ, has she really had two children?’

‘Yes she has. And meanwhile, you don’t think I’m going to be sleeping with her husband, do you? How would you feel about that?’

‘I wouldn’t mind,’ Jamie had said. ‘It’s all in the name of research.’ He’d looked up and seen Vicky’s crestfallen face. ‘Oh come here.’ He had opened his arms and she had fallen gratefully into them. ‘I was only joking. The only woman I want to be with is you.’

The only woman I want to be with is you.

The only woman I want to be with is you.

The only woman I want to be with is you.

See? Why on earth would he have said that if he hadn’t meant it? Vicky takes those words and cherishes them, rolls them over and over in her mind, tastes them on her tongue, tastes the sweetness and longing when she hears them. This is surely meant to be, she thinks happily, remembering the way he held open his arms, trying not to think of how difficult it will be to be away from him for four weeks.

Jamie Donnelly

I’ve been seeing him for a little while, but he knows I’m going to be living your life for four weeks and I don’t think you’re going to be seeing him that much. But, if he does call, get him to take you to Soho House as he knows everyone there and it will be fun for you. I don’t think you would know him, but in England he’s very famous, has a huge hit comedy series, and is Irish and very twinkly and sexy. It’s very early days but I’m hoping it will become something more serious – he’s definitely the kind of man I’ve been looking for.

Daniel

Ah Daniel. How do I describe Daniel? He works in TV, lives round the corner, is a complete commitaphobe who has women falling all over him because they can some how sense he’s not for the taking so they view him as an enormous challenge. I seem to be the only woman who hasn’t fallen head over heels, and as a consequence he likes me enormously and trusts me. I think he’s fantastic, and the perfect neighbourhood shag. Do you have that word in America? He’s basically the man I call late at night when I’m feeling horny. Oh God. I’ve probably completely shocked you. I’m so sorry, but this is the life of a single girl, and I’m hoping you can remember when you must have done the same thing. So, if the phone starts ringing at midnight, it’s probably going to be Daniel, and even though he also knows I’m gone for a while, he may just try his luck with you. Oh, and before you think I’m a complete slut, I have to say I haven’t been sleeping with Daniel since I started seeing Jamie Donnelly, but every now and then we’ll go out for a drink or dinner locally. It’s not romantic, but it’s fun, and he’s a good guy, even though I’d hate to fall for him. Still, don’t say I haven’t warned you…

And then there are the notes on her life, her routine, where she goes, what shops she uses, even her pin number for her cashpoint card, which she types through gritted teeth, having been trained never to give that number to anyone.

Oh God, she thinks. What if Amber’s a psycho? What if she seems completely normal but in fact she turns out to be a single white female who comes over here and takes over my life? What if she steals all my money, not that there’s that much to steal, sleeps with Jamie Donnelly, fucks up my job, rips up my clothes… okay, okay, Vicky takes a deep breath. Now you’re being ridiculous. And she goes ahead and writes down her pin.

Meat comes from the butcher round the corner. Cheese from the cheese shop over the road. Anything else, go to Waitrose on the High Street (and look out for Madonna, I have spotted her in there a couple of times). I’m incredibly lazy about cooking, although every now and then I’ll catch Nigella on the box and be inspired. Mostly in the evenings I’ll just eat crackers and dips with some vegetables. Basically anything that doesn’t need cooking, although to be honest I’m very rarely at home in the evenings. The only things that are always in my fridge are wine, Diet Coke, and chocolate if I get a craving.

Providores does fantastic coffee, and the Orrery is across the street, which is delicious but v. expensive – recommend it highly but only for work dinners that you can expense!

I know you’ll have a fantastic time discovering the shops here. VV Rouleaux has amazing trim, although can’t think why you’d need it. Nice place to browse, though. Kate sends me to Rachel Riley for the children’s clothes – she’ll probably put an order in with you as the sale starts while I’m away, and Kate can resist everything except a Rachel Riley sale. Oh, also Kate will be demanding you bring her taramasalata from Waitrose. Only do it if it’s okay. She won’t mind if you say no.

Selfridges is up the road, and any time I feel a bout of compulsive spending coming on, it’s up to Selfridges I go – you’ll definitely find your fill of Balenciaga bags in there, but remember, you’re using my month’s salary, and I definitely can’t afford to buy designer stuff very often! (I, however, will thoroughly enjoy shopping in Highfield, although don’t worry too much – I did listen when you said Richard wanted you to stop spending!)

And a tip at work: befriend Stella, the fashion editor. She’s always got freebies lying around the fashion cupboard. I haven’t bought make-up in years, and half my wardrobe is leftover from shoots that they’ve just forgotten about. Very unethical, I know, but if you won’t tell anyone I won’t …

Speaking of clothes, I’ve been sorting out my wardrobe, because I’m completely embarrassed having been to your house and seen your palatial dressing room with colour-coordinated clothes.

On a good note I’ve thrown away all my greying underwear – not that you’ll be wearing my underwear, don’t worry! – but it’s forced me to finally get rid of it. I’ve also been ruthless and got rid of anything I haven’t worn for a year, but unfortunately that’s left me with not an awful lot.

I do tend to wear flat shoes for work, and heels in the evening. You’ll notice I have a bit of a fetish for shoes and bags, but then again, what woman doesn’t? Thankfully, I finally cleaned out all my handbags – I didn’t want you to come over and find a pile of handbags all stuffed with rubbish, and I’m bloody pleased I did. I think I found enough crumpled tissues to stock a third world country (why they’d need dirty crumpled tissues I don’t know), seven lipsticks, three camera films which must be about a hundred years old because I’ve had a digital camera for three years, £67 and a bra. God knows. Don’t ask. So now you have lots of super-clean, empty handbags from which to choose, although unfortunately no Birkins like yours! (That’s what I’m most excited about – going out and actually carrying a real-live Hermès Birkin!)

I always oversleep, and it’s always a rush to get into the office. The alarm clock next to the bed does work, but I always sleep through it; hopefully you’ll be better. Sometimes I walk if I’m up early enough, or I get the tube from Baker Street, and I’m leaving you my Travelcard. They never look at the picture, but if you feel guilty about it you can always get your own Travelcard and they’ll reimburse you at the office.

I have breakfast at the office – a bagel, a yoghurt and some fruit. It sounds ridiculous saying you have to eat the same as me, but the sandwich bar on the corner has lots of different options if that sounds horrible. Although how horrible can a bagel, yoghurt and fruit be? Leona and Ruth have all my notes about work – I’ve left them separately at the office – and you’ll be at the editorial meetings, but I don’t think Janelle will expect you to contribute.

I do have a gym membership, but I haven’t used it in six months. I started out with fantastic intentions, went five times a week for two months, then skipped a week because I was ill, and haven’t managed to motivate myself to go back since. Still, I know that you exercise a lot, so it’s there if you need it. The membership card is in my purse next to the AA card.

Janelle says we’re not allowed to talk during the swap, which I think is probably the right decision – it would be awful if you hated everything and were really unhappy, or vice versa. I’m sure the other one would then feel so guilty it would bring the swap to an end.

I hope I haven’t overlooked anything although I’m sure I’ve forgotten loads. How do you put your whole life down on a few pieces of paper? But I know you’ll be fine, and I so hope this is everything you expect it to be. I have this morbid fear that you’ll find my flat tiny and grotty, and everything a bit small and pointless, while I live it up in your palace with your beautiful kids and nanny. Okay, I’ll shut up now, just in case I’m making you miss them. So, remember to call Kate when you feel homesick, and good luck!

Vicky has finished all the piles in her office, filing papers that have been waiting to be filed for the best part of a year, cleaning the desk that hasn’t seen Pledge since its long-gone days in the Ikea showroom, making sense of the mess of paper clips and elastic bands in the top drawer of her desk.

She has tackled her computer, defragmenting and cleaning the disk, wiping off any porn sites she may have visited – just out of curiosity, of course – over the past year, and cleaning off all the cookies.

She has rearranged her wardrobe, cleaned everything that needs to be cleaned, wiped down all the cupboards – no longer will Amber find any skeletons in there.

In short, Vicky will now be presenting her life as the quintessential single girl about town. With the exception of the number of Manolos in her closet (and yes, there are a few, but only a few), Vicky could now give Sarah Jessica a pretty good run for her money.

It just remains to be seen whether Amber can do the same thing.