Romantic novelists rarely fail to include in their writings that special moment when two strangers look into each other's eyes across a crowded room and feel the tingle of desire. Now these writings h
Dad had a green comb. He bought it when he married Mum. Every night, he would hand me his 26 and say, “Good girl, help Daddy clean it, OK?” I was 27 to do it. At age five ,
