The tabloid scandals of the UK’s recent history are prime fodder for the eponymous heroine of  Becky.  

The chronicles of this razor-sharp young woman provide a lively modern version of Thackeray’s Vanity Fair.  They offer a sparkling antidote to the millions of words spilled by these seedy events.

Their framework is clearly based on those murky goings-on which, even a couple of decades later, are still being trundled out and fought over.

So much so that one frequently wonders who author Sarah May could possibly be thinking of when penning some of the characters flitting in and out of this lively romp. 

She closely follows Thackerary’s story and retains the names he gave his characters.

The Crawley family have morphed into the Crawley Corporation, a dominant media conglomerate. A princess falls victim to the paparazzi and there’s even a George Osborn among the cast of shady politicians and journos.

And then there’s the heroine herself,  whom author May has entrusted with the role of narrator rather than the male voice used by  Thackeray.

Which gives cause ponder the long form of Ms Sharp’s first name.  Who  from those horrendous hacking hijinks could possibly be her template?  Hmm, perhaps Rebecca with a slight change of spelling is  too thin a disguise for one so devious.

It is the ‘posh’ moniker Becky Sharp resorts to when wheedling her way into the homes and minds  of those she sees as the  rungs to be trodden on her ladder to success.

Nothing and nobody is allowed to stand in her way.

She is the ultimate opportunist. And  when opportunity slams  its door in her face, she kicks it down.

Like the original, this Rebecca Sharp is a girl on the make almost from birth. And she is not averse to creating a story to fit the occasion, always hiding her humble origins and rapidly building a fantasy world.

The alleged journos’ dictum of “never let the facts spoil a good story” become glaringly real. 

And the oft-used modern phrase of “living the dream” is no better portrayed than with Becky’s relentless rise to the heights of  media fame and power. 

She manipulates the manipulators. And does so with such charm and wit that they scarcely realise they are victims.

She is an opportunist from go to whoa as she persues her relentless climb  from small town reporter to the rocky pinnacles of tabloid journalism.

As we now well know it is a treacherous  trail  that can end in scandals, prosecutions and the shutting down of once leading newspapers.

Those who Becky  encounters and ruthlessly uses and deceives make thinly disguised cast of names that were barely out of the news for months, even years, on end.

And which, in some notable cases, royalty included, continue to reverberate even today.

In some respects Becky  is a loosely fictionalised version of those events  written in what is termed tabloid style, although the word historically refers to the size of a newspaper rather than its content.

It rattles breathlessly along, with the heroine distorting the truth and creating “facts” in her headlong drive to top of the “popular” press.

She makes and loses friends and contacts depending on her needs. She wheedles and worms her way through doors that are meant to prevent her entry.

So hurried and frantic is her rise that at times the personnel become an irritating confusion of names; as does the rapid switching of timelines and locations from chapter to chapter.

There’s no need for spoiler alerts; we know how it will all end — in much the same way as it did for a real-life female journo who was brought crashing to earth in the wake of the denouements and judgements.

To tell this most entertaining of tales, author May uses a brittle and spiky style, sharp as a tack as she spears a long line of predictable targets. 

But it’s all good fun, and frequently a hilarious read —  a bright and clever rehash of recent history that’s more enjoyable than reading all the reports that deluged the media day after day.

Becky is not always the most likeable of people but one can’t help rooting for her. Even have sympathy for her  admirable ambition being so often thwarted and halted.

And if she does happen to suffer a just comeuppance, well, that’s life in the jungle where she chose to tread. Any tears of sadness that are shed are will likely be diluted by a few of sheer joy. 

A true page-turner, it makes a good bedtime read or deckchair companion that is a refreshing change from more earnest tomes in these ultra serious times.