1000 Words or Less

  Liam knew from an early age that his parents had high expectations of him.   His mother had taught him how to make his bed as soon as he was tall enough to pull up the blanket, his father gave him chores to do in the garden and, on his 6 th birthday he was allowed to steer the electric mower around the lawn, under strict supervision, of course.   His parents often said they wanted him to be able to look after himself. There was vague talk that one day he would study to be an accountant and eventually be able to take over the family business.   Liam watched his father go off to work each morning, always dressed in a dark suit and striped tie, and carrying a briefcase. As he grew older, he became aware that there were some things in the house which seemed not quite right but were never talked about.   There was a bedroom which he wasn’t allowed to go in, there was a shed in the yard which was always locked.   He never seemed to get any new clothes; whe...

  “What’s in a name?” Shakespeare asked but I often wonder what’s in the mind of some parents when they come up with a name which will be an affliction on that child until he or she is old enough to change it.   I think of myself as a traditionalist and find myself warming immediately to people called James or Andrew, Anne or Elizabeth.   I’m wary of anyone with one of the more bizarre trendy names or those whose name seems to be made up. I’ve watched the changing fashions of children’s names and I’ve read that they can often be tracked and linked to popular TV shows.   I happened to be looking at a cartoon strip in The Guardian recently and stumbled across a Pavlova and a Kiasportage: joke names obviously but could they catch on? I’ve laughed with others at the so-called celebrity names, such as Moon Unit, Sunday Rose or Heavenly Hiirani Tiger Lily.    If I had to summarise my preferences I would say that I like names as ordinary as Jack and as plain as ...

                                                                                                           The Beatles were wrong, you know, when they sang ‘All You Need is Love’.  Nigel and Cindy had plenty of that in the early 1970s but, as they soon discovered, it didn’t pay the rent or the grocery bill.  They had a new baby and, inevitably, Cindy’s contribution to the family income had been cut back, and with a baby, there’s always more expense: baby blankets, and nappies and so on.  They had moved away from their families when Nigel took the new job at the private school in Sydney so they couldn’t, any longer, ‘drop in’ on their Mums and Dads, or even their friends, for a free meal ...