Lodger lover’s identity uncovered (Rousse)

We were staying at the flat that my cousins S and L had recently bought in London. It was not ideal. The layout was such that only one bedroom had direct access to the bathroom. So if you were sleeping in the other one, you had to disturb the others on night-time trips to the lavatory. The room with bathroom access did not have a window, and was therefore unsuitable for claustrophobics.

We chose the windowless room with direct access to the bathroom. There we found evidence of a part-time lodger on the desk: a series of journal articles and monographs on media and cultural studies. Our hosts explained that they took in this man whenever he wanted to meet his girlfriend. ‘Helen’ was also an academic, but based at a different university from that of the part-time lodger. All this evidence indicated that they were engaged in an illicit love affair.

When one of our party recognised the lodger’s mobile number, we knew the identity of the errant husband.

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A silly strop beneath the Smiths (Rousse)

X sat at his desk beneath the Smiths poster. Every time that a gust of wind blew outdoors the poster billowed. I suggested that the windows be closed. It was winter after all.

All this time I had thought that X was happy with his work. I was about to discover how wrong I was. He suddenly started listing a string of complaints. The first was that he wasn’t offered enough opportunities to enter for awards. This was ridiculous. He’d just put in a bid (which he had not won, but that was because he didn’t show me the final draft of his application form. The others who had seen it thought it was ‘fine’…)

My old head of department was within earshot and clearly understood what was going on. X was simply having a strop.

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Find a man in 2016 (Rousse)

I couldn’t face another year of being single. My New Year resolution was to find a man.

This time I would avoid anyone in the hospitality industry. My last boyfriend – though a chef of world renown – made a hopeless partner, largely due to his antisocial working hours.

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By train to South Wales with arthritis (Rousse)

I chatted to the train guard, telling him how much I loved the east coast rail service and that I travelled on it on a near-weekly basis. He confirmed that it was the best route in Britain.

I was on my way to a wedding in Port Cobain, South Wales. I nearly missed my stop. This was because I struggled so much to get my my jacket and coat on, and to lift my rucksack over my shoulders. My arthritis was so debilitating.

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When Amy Winehouse came to stay (Rousse)

Amy Winehouse came to stay at my friend V’s house (and terrorise the neighbourhood).

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Clifftop gun emplacement secrets (Rousse)

We dug with our hands into the soft coastal soil. There we found multiple white, pock-marked, hollow, spherical objects the size of miniature rugby balls. They looked a bit like animal skulls, but TPR told me that they belonged to the gun emplacements on the clifftops.

Later I wandered over to the cliff. It was so narrow that I was astonished that anyone had built anything there. I almost dropped into the waves below when I peered over the edge to look at the birds nesting on the rock ledges beneath me.

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Island accommodation mix-up (Rousse)

HD-B washed up on the island having braved the high seas for an hour and a half in a tiny boat (barely the size of a coracle) with two others. Although she had suffered terribly from sea sickness, she was well enough to check into her room (20).

I had huge problems finding my own room (27). It looked like it didn’t exist. Even the staff couldn’t help me locate it. It looked like that if I wanted a bed for the night, I would have to make friends with someone else and share.

I considered JS’s son J a worthy room-mate, but he was deemed too young.

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Aircraft carrier accident (Rousse)

JG lost both his legs from just below the knee in a freak accident with an aircraft carrier. He’d now acquired some software so that the rest of us could experience the same trauma in a simulated environment.

I was terrified as the plane flew overhead. It roared over from above the ocean, blocking out daylight, then – as it approached land – the hatch at the back came down to lop off our limbs.

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Party highs and lows (Rousse)

Finally reunited, it was going to take more than looking after a bunch of party guests to prise me away from my comfortable position wrapped around XY on the sofa. He was wearing me like a stole and I loved it!

Later on, when it looked like beer supplies were running low, someone suggested that we play a board game. The dining room table was pulled away from near the hearth (so that those with their back to the fire would not be burnt) and everyone (including BM and RG) took their place. When I accidentally introduced C (who had dyed is hair blond) as A I was mortified. There was no worse way to insult a fellow academic.

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Michael Fassbender – fisherman, lover (Belle)

It was while I was serving on the crew of an Alantic deep sea fishing vessel that I first met Michael Fassbender.

The chemistry was immediate and before long we had jumped into the ocean in our bright yellow waterproofs so we could consummate our love.

As I clamboured on board I bragged “he’s my SECOND Hollywood A-lister lover” – although I couldn’t for the life of me remember who the first one had been.

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