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Driven out of central London by size of family and purse, could she ever learn to love the suburbs?

By Kate Kellaway   October 1998

I was a town mouse. I sometimes fantasised about becoming a country mouse but I would never in my wildest-or tamest-dreams have expected to become a suburban mouse. But this year, directed by size of family and purse, I moved to Barnet, at the end of the Northern Line.

I was delighted with the house and garden, but unable to get over the idea that I was living in the suburbs. I could not stop saying “Barnet” in a tone of despair and contempt, like someone holding out a particularly unpleasant sock at arms-length. I told a friend, before we…

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