Don't judge a book by its cover, or a bag lady by her appearance. 'I didn't always look like this,' she says. 'Being barmy doesn't mean I'm stupid.'

Lady Bag does have her problems - her close relationship with cheap red wine, for example. When she gets hammered she talks to her dog. When she's extra-hammered her dog talks to her. Guess who makes better sense.

She and her rescue greyhound, Electra, wander through the streets of London, seeing a Dickensian side of the capital city that's visible only to the homeless. Together they accept the kindness and unkindness of strangers with the same wry patience. Until, on one dreadful day, they meet the Devil outside the National Portrait Gallery...