It’s probably haram to quote Cecil Rhodes these days, but he was bang on when he said: ‘Remember that you are an Englishman, and have subsequently drawn the greatest prize in the lottery of life.’ We’ve had peak property, peak journalism, peak publishing, peak medicine, peak travel, peak coffee Even as a mere Englishwoman, I’ve
‘We don’t have an appointment for you!’ yelled the woman sitting behind the reception hatch. My 87-year-old father stared back at her. He had made this appointment at his local GP surgery in the Midlands and I had flown from Ireland to be with him and my mother when they attended it. We had the
One of the biggest regrets of my life was saying yes when Jo Johnson asked if I wanted to be on the board of the Office for Students (OfS) in the autumn of 2017. It wasn’t a particularly prestigious position: the OfS was to be a new regulator of higher education in England and I
You would have to be living a very sheltered life not to have noticed that the Premier League this season is one of the best and the brightest for years. Mainly because it is not permanently dominated by the Big Six – though admittedly one of Liverpool, Arsenal or Chelsea is almost certain to win
Q. A kind villager gave us a jolly circular tin of sweets for Christmas. We are both overweight and would normally have no compunction in simply re-gifting such a present, but unfortunately the ingredients listed are almost exclusively ultra-processed. I therefore feel that any potential recipients might be insulted by our giving it to them
I see this column as an essay on cultural polarisation: artisanal butter can only take you so far into wisdom. I cower in Covent Garden, mourning Tory romanticism, and stare, cold-eyed in St James’s, at oligarchic mezze. Sometimes I eat by mistake. I couldn’t get into the fashionable noodle place in Soho, whose Instagram-made queue
My husband said ‘A.J. Balfour played the concertina’, which is perfectly true, though he did other things, even as prime minister. The concertina was inessential to what I thought was a neat way of sorting out the meanings of naturalism. The word is used quite a bit these days, with four main meanings. My mnemonic
I was writing my doll’s name on the back of her neck when Mummy caught fire — a noisy distraction. She was wearing a loose blue flowered smock (an old maternity smock, I now deduce, from her pregnancy with my sister four years earlier, being used as an overall, not to waste it); the hem
Islands, illusions, our dark wrecking spell, five twisted pins at St Warna’s Well. Islands, illusions in a Bryher of mist, Bishop Rock Lighthouse serpent-kissed. Islands, illusions from East to West Porth, seas without God, skies without north. Islands, illusions near this world’s edge, storm petrels circle the Tearing Ledge. Islands, illusions on lost sailors’ lips,
Hallelujah, he’s back. What we needed to take racing’s attention off the miseries of inadequate prize money, shrinking attendances and structural problems was a genuine superstar, and when Constitution Hill galloped elegantly and professionally to Boxing Day victory in Kempton Park’s Christmas Hurdle, over the formidable Irish mare Lossiemouth, that was precisely what we saw.
