LIFE'S WORK
By David Gardiner
"I can only give you ten minutes, darling," she warned the serious-looking young man, pointing to the chair beside her own. She watched with obvious interest as he sat down and produced some items from his scuffed leather holdall. "You're younger than I expected. Are you their arts columnist?"
He smiled sheepishly. "No, Dame Laura. I'm just a reporter. We don't have columnists. We all have to turn our hand to whatever we're asked to do." He switched on his hand-held recorder as he spoke.
"Oh, less of the 'Dame' please. It makes me feel ancient and venerable. 'Laura' will be quite sufficient." She flashed one of her most charming smiles but found it hard to gauge his reaction. His expression retained its slightly unnerving intensity.
"Laura. Thank you. La
