Riding a water envelope is more fun than house clearing and lecturing (Rousse)

When we were recalled to my parents’ house to finish the clearing job, we admired the garden in the beautiful spring sunshine. Our progress was slow, especially because all the utilities had been disconnected. Even the simplest of tasks, such as washing up, were impossible.

Added to this, we had to deal with our mother. She now regularly consumed seven bottles of wine a day. Then there was my super-skinny sister S. She found nothing odd about getting up at 6:00am to gorge herself on a huge plate of salami then returning to bed for the rest of the day. Of course, my long-dead father insisted that there was nothing wrong with these behaviours, even when I dragged him into a cupboard to express my annoyance.

TPR and I escaped my family for the afternoon when we headed to the beach. Here we stored all our valuables in a yellow carrier bag to hide under some stones in a cave that was used as a changing room by old ladies (including a retired librarian). Then we joined in the water sports from a boat anchored in the bay. HVJ was there, desperate for me to join her for a ride on a ‘water envelope’.

Of course the distraction of the house, the garden, and the beach meant that I completely forgot that I had promised to deliver a 7pm lecture at the university. If asked, I would blame my absence on flooding.

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Meeting ‘famous’ people in Scotland (Belle)

I was beginning to think the marketing blurb for this Famous People of Scotland tour was slightly misleading. I was introduced to Sean Connery, who was a thirty-something wildlife welfare officer, and to our coach driver, whose name was Rabbie Burns.

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A new life in a house by the sea (Rousse)

At last, my dreams of a house by the sea were fulfilled. Granted, the village would likely be overrun in the summer, but that was a small price to pay for the view, not to mention the enormous garden with its full size tennis court. I was also delighted that the previous owners – the same people who sold us our first house in Birmingham – had left some items in the huge garage, including a couple of bikes and a big lawnmower. The only issue with the property was a drip coming through the ceiling at the back door, but TPR was onto that.

I wandered down to the pub on the seafront to meet some of our new neighbours and their dogs. There I learnt about the village ‘picker-upper’. This traditional role was assigned to a woman whose main responsibility was to cure the ill. She also made public pronouncements on the death of locals.

The first real social event of our new life on the coast was the New Year’s Day double wedding of two of my third cousins twice-removed. Anita and Out were the grand-daughters of my cousin NA and his wife J.  J reminded me to bring my pyjamas to the ceremony, although she was at a loss to explain why I would need them.

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Hugh Grant gold-digger (Rousse)

My boyfriend Hugh Grant met me at work every day to watch old films in my office.

I was convinced, however, that he wouldn’t be mine for long. He was a renowned gold-digger, and would soon discover that I was not the heiress that he imagined.

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A Daily Mail fake (Rousse)

While everyone else was taking a siesta, WB’s new husband Richard cosied up to me on the sofa and confessed that he worked for the Daily Mail. He explained that he had held the post of Marketing Director for the past 31 years.

I doubted that he was telling the truth, especially when he denied all knowledge of my brother-in-law RH.

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Shamed at a Newcastle University seminar (Rousse)

TPR and I travelled to Newcastle for two visits to my mother in her care home.

Between the visits, TPR consulted physics text books in Newcastle University library, then we both attended a research seminar in the School of Fine Art.

Part-way through the talk, the Head of School asked me to escort TPR from the building. This was because TPR’s unwarranted interruptions and basic questions revealed that he had no right to be there. We left campus under a cloud of shame.

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From floppy to dead (Rousse)

One of the two tiny puppies that the woman handed over to me looked a bit floppy. Nevertheless, I photographed the pair of them.

When I passed the puppies back to her, I hoped that she didn’t notice that the floppy one was now dead.

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The body in the locker (Rousse)

I visited my locker from time to time to check that it did not smell.

I was afraid that if it did, someone would find the rotting body parts in my spare change tin. Then everyone would know that I committed the murder.

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Tom Hollander gynaecologist (Rousse)

I was 46 years old and pregnant with triplets.

But all was not lost because Tom Hollander was my gynaecologist.

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An non-romantic proposal (Belle)

My significant other and I had been in a relationship for years. We were arguing about why we were still not married, or even engaged. As the argument continued, I realised I was growing to hate him. Eventually, he dug deep into his trouser pocket, pulled out a ring box and slammed it into my outstretched hand.

I quietly decided to dump the boyfriend but keep the diamond ring.

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