Novelist. One-time Shakespearean actor. Journalist, broadcaster and commentator if you pay me enough. Mother of far too many. Lover of one alone.
Honest to God, this is the entire conversation. Beginning to end. Verbatim.
– What can I do for you?
– I can’t sleep.
– How long has this being going on for?
– I can’t remember.
Not so much a bunch of flowers, as a bunch of statement.
“Who sent you those?” Shaun asked.
“Barclays.” Like, obvious.
After laughing a lot, “Why?”
“I suggested they could send me champagne or flowers, and they came up with that.”
“What shall I speak to the boys about today?” Shaun asked me as he was getting dressed. “It’s International World Women’s Day.”
“Hmm. Male Chaplain, talking to a Chapel full of boys, with a male head master and male head of the prep school?”