Aunt May, another of Mum’s sisters, was telling everyone about her most recent visit to North Africa. Her daughter, my cousin Rita, had eloped with a Libyan student from the London School of Economics. Dissolve thirty years. Rita now lived in a guarded, high-walled estate in Tripoli, and her son-in-law oversaw part of Qaddafi’s nuclear program. They lived well in Libya. Very well. They took holidays in Switzerland and in England, and they had bodyguards. If nothing else, it was safe to assume they lived in fear of their lifestyle.
2 comments:
Living close to the Mexican border and the active drug cartels, I would hate to have to live with bodyguards. Never know whether to trust the bodyguards!
Chris--ouch, hopefully you can, otherwise there's not much point is there? I think Auntie May quite enjoyed the attention.
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