“His head is bald as an egg now and a funny shape. He looks like that chemistry teacher with the cancer.” This was news to me. But then I haven’t exactly gone out of my way to keep in contact with my old school. To be honest, I haven’t exactly gone out of my way to keep in contact with people who live on the wrong side of London. “Mr. Beezle has cancer?” “Not him. The other one.” Another thing about my mum: relationship to reality, questionable at best. “Do you mean Walter White?”
