I was still at that stage in my life when I thought that weekdays were for recovering from the weekend Lucy Sullivan is twenty-six and living it up (and occasionally down) in London. Hers is a life of quiet, undisciplined desperation. But when she and three friends visit a psychic for a bit of fun and the womans predictions start coming true, Lucy is horrified. For the fortune teller insisted shed soon be marriedwithin the year, in fact. Not only does Lucy not have a boyfriend, but the chances of getting one look slim. Between the bottles of wine, anti-depressants and her addiction to self-help books, shes not quite ready to walk, or even stumble, down the aisle sober. Is Lucys fate really written in the stars? Or will she finally take control of her own destiny?