As a little girl I used to daydream about my real father coming on a white horse to rescue me.
Discretion is the polite word for hypocrisy.
We knew we were talking about spies. I knew he knew I knew. I was digging my own grave.
The fathers, if they got me alone, would try to kiss and fondle me. I hated it.
I like to think that people live on in other people's memories.
It's been a misery for me, living with Christine Keeler.