I was six years old when I stepped foot in a children’s home for the first time, although I have no recollection of that initial experience. It must have been confusing, but perhaps there would have been relief too — the foster carers my brother and I had moved from…

Notwithstanding the garish colour scheme, Happy Eater was a slightly dreary chain of roadside restaurants scattered around the A roads of Southern England in the 1980s and early 90s. The kind of place I would probably be too much of a snob to eat at now, unless I really had…

John Radoux

Pseudo intellectual who, like you, thinks he has a book in him.

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