After I'd left my last school, I pinched a
wallet full of credit cards and went ape-shit in about five different counties. The
police eventually caught up with me in Swindon. I was given two years'
probation, and served
a couple of
months at a prison called Pucklechurch in Avon. After public school, it
was a breeze.
Prison turned a corner for me. I
enrolled at a sixth form college in Norwich, and went on to sit the Cambridge
entrance exam. I won a scholarship.
We do talk and argue all the time when we're
together, but now we have quite civilised arguments about the art of science
and the science of art.
I do hope he derives some enjoyment
from my work. Our
relationship is still spiky enough for me not to get many signs that he does.
He has always worked phenomenally hard, sometimes even on Christmas Day. While
he's not poor, I do feel guilty that the rewards for what I do are so much
greater than his, and I'm aware of the absurdity of the recognition for flinging your face around.
It's a splendid marriage, they adore each
other, and I've never known them have a cross word. I'd never had to deal with people
openly rowing in public. I think sex is terribly stupid, but I now think
marriage is actually rather a good idea.
He's rarely given me advice, it's mostly been
by example. He is always polite to people, giving them his full
attention. Both my parents have a gentleness and fundamental decency which I'm
proud of.
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