Painfully shy and unattractive, I never had a boyfriend, or even attempted to snare one. I didn’t drink at all. In fact, I only had my first glass of alcohol on Millennium Eve, at the age of 42. I didn’t lose my virginity until my late 30s.
Over the years, I’ve often wished I’d been more carefree; more like the girls who, fuelled by alcohol, let their inhibitions go. At least I might have got married young instead of in my 40s; had children, perhaps.
But that was before the tragedy that befell Laura, my sister-in-law. She was a shy, beautiful young woman who started drinking to be more sociable at university in Edinburgh. She was unable to stop. Full Read
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