Although my mother had a successful career as a fashion journalist, she missed out on not one but two other vocations.
Those with ungodly staying power will find the second outlined at the end, but the first career for which nature ideally equipped her was that of interrogator. She could break the hardest Lubyanka inmate with nothing more in her arsenal of torment than verbal relentlessness.
‘Have you booked it yet?’ she asked a couple of months ago, the ‘it’ being one of those
