Not content with the table displays, Daddy covered the sofa with our new ski-ing clothes, our beanies, vorlages, ankle-length tomato coloured pants, Mummy's furry earmuffs, their anoraks and my parka.

a unitary authority

Her daughter threatened to publish our emails in a memoir. How she got them is a mystery. She's one of those cyberfreaks.

He had not, he remarked with crushing causticity to one of his ministers, liberated France ‘to worry about the macaroni ration’.