Dervla

She was the most beautiful, everybody agreed that, and the most mysterious. Quiet and extremely calm, it was never easy to work what was going on behind those smiling green Irish eyes. Eyes that always seemed to be laughing at a different joke from the res of the group. By the time of the murder Bervla had been the bookies' number two favourite to win the game, and she would have been number one had Geraldine Hennessy not occasionally and jealously edited against her, making her look stuck-up when in fact she was merely abstracted.
'So what's a trauma therapist when it's at home, then?' Garry asked. He and Dervla were stretched out beside the pool in the pleasant aftermath of the morning's champagne.
'Well, I suppose my job is to understand how people react to stress, so that I can help them to deal with it.' Dervla replied in her gentle Dublin brogue. 'That's why I wanted to come on this show. I mean, the whole experience is really just a series of small traumas, isn't it' I think it'll be very interesting to be close to the people experiencing those traumas and also to experience them myself.'
'So it's got nothing to do with winning half a million big ones, then?'
Dervla was far too clever to deny the charge completely. She knew that the nation would almost certainly be scrutinizing her reply that very evening.
'Well, that would be nice, of course. But I'm sure I'll be evicted long before that. No, basically I'm here to learn. About myself and about stress.'
From the book "Dead Famous" by Ben Elton