Natalie

A good-for-nothing, gormless, sprot!' had been her school report card's most memorable quote at fourteen. Her mother taking her to task over her insistence on drinking on school nights and leaving her granny sitting in her own piss while she waited for Neighbours to finish (having already watched the same episode together a few hours before). She had been asked to leave her first job in Poundeys for mis-spelled graffiti on the toilet walls denouncing her managers as 'mini Hitlass' and 'Fatchuz Henchies'. In spite of all this, a weekly punk spoken word night in her local had gotten her a good word with the English department at Derby university.

    She was a bright star at university, having achieved grades far beyond what was required even though her election as editor of the student magazine had put her on a hundred deadlines a month extra. Her wit and warmth in tutorials gave her an easy demeanour that disarmed the distrust of her fellow females whilst, obviously, making the boys work just that little bit harder to win her admiration. The tutors shortly began to look elsewhere for marking since spending too much time on her just made them sad that they had come as far as they could, at this former teacher training college. In her spare time she helped her boss, Guapa, at the itinerant pizza stall in the town center to move from handcart, to converted ice-cream truck, to shop-front looking out on the Eighteenth century market square with her marketing inspirations, her voluntary book-keeping assistance, and her campaigns in the press, both municipal and varsity.

    She still began fights in the park with strangers, though she wrote these experiences up in dazzling prose later. She slept with Guapa's husband, Rodriguez, though she asked permission first. Her spelling improved with study.  Her grades were funded through easy-Ees sellotaped to the inside of her bra-strap on club nights out. Her grandma never saw her, though she lived next door.