Wife in the Money

'My cousin has a child, a magic boy of seven whose eyes glow like fireflies. I had a headache from falling down stairs while carrying logs for the downstairs stove. A fine rain was falling on the moors. Magic Boy was sitting in the back seat of the Volvo. I had been arguing with the plumber about the guest bathroom and my husband about how long he was spending in London. I was ready to spontaneously combust when the Magic Boy suddenly cried, 'Look, Auntie, a double rainbow like the one that appeared at the birth of Kim Jong-Il!' Suddenly my head cleared and...'

No, sorry, I can't keep it up. Wife in the North can, however, and it's made her £70,000. I really must persist.

'....it all began to make perfect sense and I thought of my mother, a fastidious, ever-busy little body, neatly suited and booted with hair like the Queen. She had an affair with Kim Jong-Il's father, a sweet man who only wanted the best for his people and was looking for a country cottage just like the one I now have with its view over the moorland to the sparking sea beyond and, in the evenings, the most wonderful, colourful sunsets which we watch while drinking tequila slammers and smoking big fat, Cameroonish spliffs that my husband rolls using 36 separate Rizlas. He really is a good man. His joints - we just received some excellent ganja from our best friends in Chiswick - are wonderful for taking the edge off the day and, of course, the glooms that always afflict us once the crack wears off. I think it's time I had an affair and the new Aga comes tomorrow....'