Womankind

GILLIAN LECKIE

Four years ago I was crossing the road at a very busy junction near my apartment. The Commonwealth Games had started in Glasgow and I’d just returned from a teaching job in Spain. I was elated. I was coming home. It was afternoon. A car racing at 50 miles per hour took the wrong turn and hit me. I flew up and hit the underside of a bridge.

I grew up in a town called Barrhead, the youngest of three sisters. My mother had been married and divorced, and had me when she was 34. My father, who she never married, was 10 years younger. At that time she was considered an

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