We have entered a new phase. Last night, for the first time since my noise war with Justin Clay started, my husband was away overnight. Which Mr Clay knew, because when Stuart’s at home his car is parked in one of the residents’ bays on the street rather than in Stansted airport’s short-stay or l...
I am thinking how much I wish we were driving to a police station because I’m kind of a suspect in a murder case, but one who has no other terrible problems. Not one who has just confessed to cyber infidelity, and been told she’s forgiven, and doesn’t believe it for a second. ‘You can’t forgive m...
