32. I have a mind of my own [Waterstone's, Manchester Arndale]

‘Can you watch where you’re going, please?’ I say sternly to a bubblegum-haired teenager.
She arranges her face into a withering ‘piss off, you old bag’ sneer before noticing that she’s about to whack Milo in the face with her voluminous satchel.
‘Oh, sorreh,’ she says and pulls her mouth into the approximation of a smile.
It never [...]

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