David Jason hides in car boot (Rousse)

After I took my laptop out of the boot of the green car, David Jason climbed in and pulled down the lid. I could only assume that this was part of a TV drama.

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Finals failure and longest hair competition win (Rousse)

The University library was crammed with my final year colleagues, some of whom had apparently been revising there for the full academic year. I was yet to open a book, and with a gap of 28 years since we all graduated, I was certain that I would fail this new set of exams.

KH told me that some of the others, including JG, had a clear advantage over the rest of us because their tutors had set them work throughout the year. I was not so lucky. My only hope was to persuade Mr H to tell me what was on the exam.

However, I was not a complete failure. The University had conducted an analysis of the social media interactions between members of the year group and the poster pinned to the library walls showed that I had come out as the best-connected member of the group. I also won the “longest hair” prize.

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Packing for Penzance (Rousse)

I should never have left the packing to TPR. We were about to embark on a train journey from Edinburgh to Penzance and he had forgotten to add my book to the bag. Worst of all, he had left my iPhone charger at home, meaning that I would be out of contact from Wednesday onwards.

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Victim takes refuge in medieval tower as gunman runs amok on university campus (Rousse)

XY deliberately failed to acknowledge me at the start of his presentation. It was obvious that the had audience members noticed this. To lighten the mood, I said jokingly “What about me?” My colleagues found this hilarious.

Unfortunately the speaker did not appreciate my interruption. As soon as the formal proceedings of the presentation were over he stepped down from the stage and pulled out a yellow gun. For the next ten minutes or so he chased me along the campus corridors, ranting incoherently, and occasionally taking aim.

The only place of safety would be behind the thick walls of the medieval tower. Rather than run there directly I made a false move down the staircase. This gladdened my attacker, who declared that I now made it easier than ever for him to shoot me. To his complete surprise I then barged back upstairs again and straight past him, through the double doors and towards PQ’s office.

I was certain that PQ would be in his room. He had been ill for weeks, but was still coming into work. I found him lying tucked up in a bed by the window working his way through a pile of documents. When he smiled at me weakly in greeting, I knew that I was safe.

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A false accusation of theft and underperforming academics (Rousse)

As soon as I learnt that JC had been sacked, I went straight to SS to find out why. Although it could not be proven, SS was convinced that JC had been stealing the petty cash. I argued that this could not possibly be the case: JC was as honest as they come, and had no reason to thieve.

Top of the list of those to lose their job should be the staff who simply don’t put in the hours, and thus effectively cheat the University out of thousands every week.

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Never too late for law (Rousse)

I caught up with HJ just as she was leaving the party. Looking rather bedraggled in a long, bright red, lace dress, she complained that there were too few people there for it to be any fun. I agreed, and suggested that she might like to join the others who were heading off by car to some posh reception in Silicon Valley. I regretted that I couldn’t go with them, but TPR couldn’t bear the thought of thought of returning to his “old” life in California.

HJ liked this idea, but was sorry that I would not accompany her. To emphasise that my decision was nothing to do with her I mentioned the three “I love you” button badges that I had recently sent her by post. She now looked at me suspiciously, evidently considering the meaning of my gift. Was this a declaration of true love?

She quickly changed the subject and related her plans to return to “school” (Cardiff University), complete a Masters degree in law, and train to be a barrister. She reckoned that she would be at the bar by the time she was 62. Given that she also admitted to having just consumed an entire bottle of red wine, I could not be sure of the truth of her voiced ambitions.

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Risky whisky expenses (Rousse)

TPR jumped into my London hotel bed at 05:00am.

“Where have you been?” I asked. “I thought you were at home?”

“No, I have been drinking whisky in the bar downstairs. Tomorrow I have a meeting with Sun Microsystems in West London.”

I hoped that my drunken husband had not charged the cost of his refreshments to my room.

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A Caterham for a Volkswagen (Rousse)

When the steering wheel fell off the Stilo I took the opportunity to persuade TPR that it was high time we bought a new car. My preference was a brand new Volkswagen.

TPR looked doubtful until I added that if we sold the Caterham that we had recently inherited, we could easily afford something so much better than a dodgy second-hand Stilo.

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Female academic name change dilemmas (Rousse)

I’d just entered into a civil partnership, but couldn’t remember which of the three female candidates had been my bride. Could it be RT, the one I knew best of all? Or was it the woman with double-barrelled surname?

I needed to know so that I could work out what my new surname should be, and then ensure the authority control of all my future publications.

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iPhone mix-up (Rousse)

I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t get through to NP by phone. Then I realised that despite its similar dimensions, a bar of chocolate is not an iPhone.

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