Little Brenda Bottle was a bundle of trouble. She was the type of child that might sneak into snooker halls with her brothers, dressed as a boy, or hang her best friend from the schoolyard railings during a spirited game of cowboys and Indians.
She was the type of child whom you would never leave alone with a brand new mohair suit, for fear of how her good intentions might manifest themselves.
Her grown-up counterpart,...
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