'Smokin' in the Boy's Room...'
― Iknew she was up to something again when she phoned last Sunday. We speak everyweekend and this weekend she answered with one of those voices that suggestedshe knew something I didn’t. I could hear the smugness in her tone. Whoam I talking about? Why, my mother, of course. My party-loving, chain smoking,wine drinking, mischievous mother. ‘Hello,’she said, cigarette clearly in her mouth. ‘How are you?’Well,that’s odd to begin with. She sounded like she was talking to the postman. Icould [...].
