Home of The Naughty Stories Series
The school used to give us a cheque, every month, to cash in the Banca Commerciale. By the end of the month I was always a bit short of cash. Although I kept something back in an envelope that slotted into the upright desk in my room (I trusted Katarina and Amelia implicitly), that month …
I can never really relax beforehand; I am always looking round for something to do, even if I will invariably end up winging it; when my tax card came in the post that morning, I thought I had found the perfect conversation piece. “It’s been the running joke of my life here,” I said at …
Once upon a time, in the days before we all had little wheely bins to take on Ryanair or Easyjet, Patrick had a black Roncon suitcase with a blue strap around its middle to secure it. When it did not come up on the carousel, he went outside to smoke a cigarette. Finishing his cigarette, …