My baby brother died overnight when I was 10. I wasn’t allowed to say anything about his sudden death which I had learned about when it was announced in school assembly that morning. On the day of the funeral I got yelled at for saying that the hall looked like a flower shop, so filled it was with beautiful flowers. I wasn’t to go to the funeral and was told to take my two younger siblings, aged 7 and 3 round to the house of one of my parents’ friends about a 10 minute walk away. We were nearly there when a big black car pulled up and I was beckoned over. I stared transfixed at the beautiful tiny gold decorated white coffin in the back as he showed me an address written on a piece of paper and asked if I knew the road. It was my address of course and to this day the sight of a small white coffin in a hearse brings me to helpless tears.
Should women have equal pay and opportunities?
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Another week, another Tory MP sex scandal!
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