Thursday 4 October 2012

Could somebody please shoot the messenger

Lily is browsing the detritus on the kitchen table.

‘What’s this?’ she says, brandishing the Raleigh email print-out. As I reach for it, she darts round the other side of the table. She stands like a Shakespearean messenger preparing to read from a scroll. A sneer forms on her lips as she prepares to mock.

‘“By living” is the answer to the first question. “Not very well” is the answer to the second one. “In a home in London doing absolutely nothing except blogging and looking after the dog” is the answer to the third one. Simple.’

Honestly, it’s like having a mean older sister instead of a devoted daughter.

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