If my father is to be believed (and I have no reason to doubt him), I was, quite literally, left on his front doorstep, in an open picnic basket reple...e with handles, wrapped in swaddling clothing, just like Jesus. Dad found me when he answered the doorbell.I haven't ever seen, or for that matter, met my mother. My father tells me she never came to see me. I harbor no resentment over that. After all, I was not her daughter. I was my sister's daughter.I have a vague, very vague, recollection of. " What's she like?"Tiny." I told her, "Small but lovely, she thanked me on behalf of the British people."We ate dinner then and spent the rest of the day just lazing and watching crap television, it was about ten o'clock when she suddenly announced that it had stopped snowing."I'll just ring Gary to see if he wants me, you never know."She did but he didn't, so we opened a couple more lagers and got into bed to watch even more crap on the box."It's Saturday tomorrow isn't it?" she observed and I. More

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