I’m sure some of us have worried about a cleaner finding our hidden canes, so this story by a new writer to us should be of interest.
By Jane Scott
I don’t normally have tea and cakes on Saturday afternoon with one of my employers, but this is the story of how one time I did.
I was standing in my bedroom with my underwear drawer open, one of a simple pine chest of drawers, with neatly folded cotton smelling lightly of lavender. I couldn’t decide what the hell to put on. That’s not much like me. I’m a decisive person, but this business had got to me and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. I went to the toilet again, even though I’d just been.
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