What Happened to Us by Ian Holding

I think what happened to us started the day I was out playing on the streets of our neighbourhood and accidently pissed on the President’s face. I was a thirteen year old kid, skinny, lean-boned, full of shit. It was a Tuesday afternoon and I was home early from school on a scorching early November day. There hadn’t been any rainfall yet to ease the tight, dry heat or settle the dust, and I was out and about amongst it, blood-hot, looking for trouble.

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A Wilder Fowl

In later life he was a publisher’s reader and literary advisor for Jonathan Cape, where he was an early and ebullient proponent of Ted Hughes, Arthur Koestler, Stevie Smith, John Betjeman, John Fowles, Vladimir Nabokov, Alan Paton and Ian Fleming. (No Plomer, no Bond.)

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