“I don’t want a new mummy”

Today is Mother’s Day in the UK. (c) Millennium Images/Superstock

One night, lying in bed, saying goodnight to Rosie. Ben is there, too. We’re all squashed in, listening to a recording of Alan Bennett reading Winnie the Pooh, when Rosie says: “What happens if you get married again, Daddy?” Continue reading


When you’re too gone to care that you’re s@*tting in the street

Chocolate-box cemetery

One sunny Sunday morning. Rosie and I are on our way back from the local bagel place, scoffing rye and sesame bagels as we walk. We’re sharing – taking turns taking bites out of each other’s bagels. We round the corner and make the descent down the steep and picturesque hill that leads us back to our flat. Continue reading


At night, I dream about it. It’s the first thing I think of when I wake up. I trudge through my day robotically, waiting for the moment when I can have it next, and when I do, I can’t stop myself from having more. Sometimes, I don’t make it through the whole day. When I sleep, I dream of it.

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