by Liz Champion | Aug 15, 2020 | Memoir
‘We need to do something for your birthday,’ Chris says, the day before I turn forty-one. ‘This time last year, we were in Crete,’ I say. ‘I know.’ ‘We had that meal looking out to sea, and that amazing chocolate pudding.’ ‘The grill pit,’ Chris says. ‘I ended up...
by Liz Champion | Aug 1, 2020 | Memoir
It is nine o’clock on Saturday morning, sixteen weeks and six days since lockdown began, when I finally stop procrastinating and step onto the scales. I stand as tall as I can, willing myself thinner. It takes a few seconds for the scales to give their verdict. In...
by Liz Champion | Jul 18, 2020 | Memoir
‘I’m worried about your sister,’ Mum tells me during one of our tea and cake chats in what was formerly the conservatory but is now known as the bubble. ‘Why?’ I say, taking a sip of my tea. ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘She’s not herself. She’s talking about getting some ducks.’...
by Liz Champion | Jul 4, 2020 | Memoir
‘We need to do something about your books,’ Chris says, standing in the doorway to the spare room, afraid to step inside. ‘You have too many.’ ‘There’s no such thing as too many books.’ ‘They’re everywhere.’ He points to the piles of books stacked floor to ceiling and...
by Liz Champion | Jun 27, 2020 | Memoir
It’s the first night in our new home and something doesn’t feel right. I sit in bed, eyes scanning the room, trying to work out exactly what. ‘Something’s not right,’ I say to Chris. ‘I know what you mean.’ He is lying next to me also scanning the room. Our furniture...
