On a general "leaving things" type note, on September 18th 2001 I was in the USA and left my passport, Mrs X's passport, our plane tickets and all our holiday photos in a taxi.
The AMericans, understandably, were very strict about security.
I can still see Mrs X's face, contorted with tears, as she utters the soul-damaging, heart-felt sob: "Being married to you is my worst nightmare."
The AMericans, understandably, were very strict about security.
I can still see Mrs X's face, contorted with tears, as she utters the soul-damaging, heart-felt sob: "Being married to you is my worst nightmare."