Our Girl Jill

Last week I arose to a quiet house, no alarm, sun gently twinkling at the curtain corners. I stretched warm and comfortable in the knowledge I had plenty of time to attend to my ‘mind of its own’ hair before alighting the train, with dignity and aplomb for the journey to the big smoke. FUCK… a quick glance at the red menacing light on the bed-table told me alarm was long gone and the only time left needed to be devoted to panic.... Read More