A transatlantic upgrade (Rousse)

I was dreading the journey: a transatlantic flight in economy. As soon as the fasten seat belt sign went out I made my move for the on-board lavatory, as did many of my fellow passengers. Rather than wait in a queue in economy, I pushed through the heavy curtains into business class. The cabin was barely half full, and when a small blonde stewardess spotted me she rushed over to offer me a seat.

Apparently I was just the “type” for business class, even though I had only paid the economy fare. If I were to accept her offer, here I would be given a huge reclining seat and access to the tables and computers at the back of the cabin.

Unfortunately TPR did not make the minimum entry requirements, and he was doomed to remain in economy.

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Chocolate compensates for a disastrous first date (Belle)

This was a disastrous first date and I had resorted to hiding in the toilet to plan my escape. Things got even worse when my date’s ‘cleaner/girlfriend’ let herself into the flat. A drop-dead gorgeous multi-tasker, she managed to do the washing up, curl her long blonde hair and stare at me disdainfully all at the same time. “It will never last”, she said to me. “I really don’t want it to”, I replied.

Things got better later when I discovered the taste-sensation that was a segment of Terry’s Chocolate Orange eaten with a square of mint Aero.

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Yes offers treats for tweeting (Rousse)

As we walked across the tarmac and into the terminal I saw a couple about to board their flight. At least in his sixties, he wore a brown leather hat pulled down over stringy hair dyed blue black, his face obscured by sunglasses. His companion was a blonde woman in her forties. All the signs were that this was a once-famous pop star and his girlfriend about to take to their private jet.

Only one of my own friends had ever travelled in such style. In recent years HJ had become friendly with the members of 1970s progressive rock band Yes. As a special treat, she was sometimes invited aboard their private jet. All that was expected in return was that she would tweet their news.

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An embarrassing handshake (Belle)

I was at a school reunion in Birmingham when a friend I hadn’t seen for years marched across the empty dance floor towards me. I knew that my old school friends would be impressed. This London friend was quite a celebrity – and he looked pleased to see me. I stepped forward to greet him with a kiss. He, however, merely held out his hand saying “I’m much more formal these days”.

Once again, I felt like a fool.

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Prawn overkill (Rousse)

The hotel dining room was beautifully decorated and the table setting stunning, but why did every dish on the menu contain prawns?

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Exam board bliss (Rousse)

The staff at Northumbria University were delighted to see me again. We reminisced about the happy days when I would give up my Saturdays to travel down from Edinburgh to Newcastle for the weekly exam boards.

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Nigella Lawson’s fairy cakes (Rousse)

It was about time that someone gave Nigella Lawson some advice on making fairy cakes. That someone was me.

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Belle hits the headlines

I was intrigued to discover that, according to the headline on the front of Time Magazine, I was now ‘London’s Leading Lady in Glass’.

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Dress designer Rousse finds her model

KT was delighted to try on the latest outfit from my new collection: a cream dress teamed with a wide red patent leather belt and matching court shoes. She ran over to the promenade and posed for photos, quite the model.

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The Neanderthal Newborn of Noss (Rousse)

The French man pushed the shopping trolley with one hand and carried the naked newborn baby in his other. He had walked for miles from the remote island of Noss (Shetland) just to register the baby’s birth. I wondered why the child was quite so hairy. Where was its mother, and what exactly was its parentage?

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