When I was 8 I hatched a plan with a school friend (with whom I spent hours and hours acting out scenes from Grease) to move to Hollywood when we were 18 and become actresses. We had it all worked out. We’d waitress and before long we’d be spotted by a producer and become movie …

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She just wants to be normal I know, but that’s difficult verging on impossible when you have a feminist, socialist mother mouthing off about the Royal Family, organised religion and David Cameron while you’re trying to read the latest Jacqueline Wilson in the back of the car. Today in Brownies they celebrated the Queen being the …

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At the time it seemed like a good idea. ‘Are you sure mummy that this is going to work?’ Alula asked sceptically. ‘Of course,’ I told her, contemplating the cardboard box that I’d strangled with parcel tape. ‘It’ll be fine. I’ve bubble wrapped it all. And I wrote FRAGILE on the side of the box.’ …

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About six years ago I was sitting on the 7.38 train to London Bridge and I turned to John and said: ‘I’m going to write a blog. What do you think about the title ‘Can we live here?’ He nodded. And so this blog was born. Back then I think I possibly harboured a tiny hope …

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