Sheep is to mutton as pig is to… What? Bacon? Chops? Sausages? Shall I just hedge my bets and write down all three?
No, you idiot – it must be pork. The precious seconds tick away.
‘It’s too soon to be concerned, Mrs Bardwell. I don’t think they’ve let everyone know yet.’
I can picture my mother in 1970, standing in the hallway of our house in Purley, talking on the phone about the pending results of the 11-plus.
Fiona, my best friend, had just heard she had passed
