texts: Mummy and I, we were more like lovers, really, or sisters.  Then a couple of years after Daddy died, and not long after I left Oxford, she started seeing various men and I was furious.  I really was upset. I stopped going home.  I never phoned.  I went round telling everyone how awful her books were. And she hardly seemed to notice, and that made me angrier.  Then I got a job I was interested in, and I started to see lots of men, and I suppose I grew up a little and began to understand.  So I wrote her a long letter, almost seven pages, saying how sorry I was, and how I was worried that we were drifting apart.  And do you know, she wrote me a poem, a really beautiful poem about mothers and daughters.
labels: How nice.