Though I grew moist-eyed when they presented these two envelopes and felt almost sorry to be going—actually nostalgic already for my long time spent with them, for the little things, the little laughs, the silly accidents and birthday cakes—on the bus home I made the mistake, or took the eminently sensible step, of working out how much on average each had given. It came to thirty-five pence per person, with ten pence added on.
Another book about what a woman makes of independence & freedom when she leaves a rather dull life in London behind her for her own house in Bristol which she has inherited and where she begins to behave in increasingly atypical ways. The book explores the gulf between how we see ourselves and how we are viewed by others. 35p each is what her colleagues of 11 years spent on a going away present for her: a book voucher.