All Writers Are Thieves; Theft Is A

I Wanted To Be A War Reporter - Scrabbling Around, Exposing Things. I Didn't Want To Go To University, I Wanted To Get A Job, But Auntie Beryl Said I Should Go To Oxford.

I Met My Second Husband On A Bus. We Looked At Each Other And That Was It. We Were Both Married To Other People At The Time And Behaved Badly, But We Didn't Seem To Have Any Choice. We Were Very Happy For Nearly 50 Years And Would Still Be Together If It Wasn't For The Bloody Railways.

I Was Born In A Small Suburb Of Ilford In A Rather Nasty Housing Estate That My Mother Despised. She Had Grown Up In The Country, So When The War Came And I Was Evacuated To Wales She Thought I Was Much Better Off There.

Margaret Thatcher Was In My Year, And Our First-year College Photograph Shows Us Standing Side By Side In The Back Row. We Were Both Grammar School Girls On State Scholarships.

I Met Richard Burton, An Raf Cadet On A Two-term Course. I Would Have Flirted More Enthusiastically If It Had Not Been For The Horrid Boils On The Back Of His Neck.