She didn’t think, either, that she’d been born with an ambition to fix things – to fix the world. Nature or nurture? her mother used to ask when Carrie came home from university and sprayed their quiet semi with fury and outrage. ‘I don’t know where you get it from, Caroline Kent. Certainly not from my side of the family. You used to be such a quiet little girl.’ Carrie didn’t remember herself as a quiet child at all. Inside her head, from an early age, there raged a torrent of morals battling out issues over which she had no control. At school, if there was ever an argument, if someone was hurt or left out or being too pushy, Carrie would step in to sort things out. It won the respect of those she helped, but lost her many friends in the process. She grew up with other kids either in awe of her or hating her. It was, if she was completely honest with herself, all about being in control. ‘And not losing it,’ she told Leah during their first year at university. It was 1986 and they were both studying Broadcast Journalism.
