Saskia Wesnigk-Wood Dance of freedom My mother could have gone to university. My parents split up when I was Within a month I had a full-time job there, and after three months she noticed me. I was seven, had just left infant school and was about to enter the juniors. Strikingly attractive, but clearly insane.
My father, whose last conversation with me about relationships was to ask if I felt a calling to the priesthood, whispers that I should take care not to get tied down too early.
What's a widower to do?
My parents had been to Paris days before they split and returned, unusually, with a gift for each of us. I turn it over and read the only two words: It was all, O Blessed Mother Mary, a welcome release. This created minor territorial issues between the two women, which I observed, bemused, from the sofa. Despite her extraordinary physical charms, Farah's kind, thoughtful intelligence was what came through. And you don't, somehow, think about that word. She loved rock music and was considered born out of her time.