my eldest daughter went off to university in London last September with two staples in her wardrobe; jeans and trainers. This is the uniform of youth in the town in Northern Ireland where she grew up.
Fifteen weeks later, when I arrived at Aldergrove to fetch her home for Christmas, all had changed. She wore a red felt skirt, tights with geometric stripes, an Afghan headscarf, biker boots, and jewellery from four nations.
The children (I have four more) were waiting in the living room at home, their eyes riveted to the gate. As I nudged the car into the…
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