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21 Grosvenor Close

Part Two: Reg Benson is a Pompous Moron

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Dad told me that I should be a solicitor. Licence to print money, he says. So I’m going to be a stupid prat like Reg Benson when I’m big so that I can be rich, too.

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Part One: The Night that Made My Dad Kill Himself

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I ask mum where dad is. She says that the men came to the house in the night and took dad away.

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Dear Maternity Leave,

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It was at that point I realised I wasn’t in love with you at all. I was just in love with the idea of you. It became obvious that our relationship wasn’t going to be easy.

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There’s a Party on the Hill…

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I gave up. Without shouting the word C*NT, I couldn’t see any other way of explaining it.

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Hang on Little Tomato

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And just hang on, mum. A little bit longer. Just for tomorrow. Or forever, if you can.

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The Ice Cream Miracle

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Ironically, mum put her child’s recovery down to the chill of a dish of ice cream rather than the warmth of her own brilliant love and resolve.

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The Milkman Can Sod Off

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So the milkman can sod off. We’ll make the most of whatever life throws at us. Because that’s what we do.

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The Brother Who Came to Tea

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I was concerned that during his visit he might slip into a dullness coma, based on our finite amount of wine time and Whitney deficiency.

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Baby Boy

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Do boy-hormones induce smelly bum burbs? There’s one to ponder.

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Venice

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I can’t believe I had ever dismissed Venice for being a bit watery and too pigeony. But it just goes to show: life is all about who you are with.

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