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t is 1972. I am 27. My friend Dusty Wesker, wife of Arnold Wesker who is great mate of my then husband Tom, thrusts an Evening Standard at me announcing a competition they are running whereby the prize is to be the paper’s restaurant critic. With one or maybe even both of my two small daughters – the younger only a few months old – in my arms or round my feet I am thinking I probably shouldn’t be considering a job, but grievously I miss working, having been a copywriter at JWT and a journalist on the new, improved Radio Times. And the prize obtains only for three months…what harm can it do? I enter on the closing date.
seems to be in short order right now. our sarah sidner is live in gaza with a bird s eye view of the conflict. are you seeing more air strikes right now? reporter: absolutely, and in just the past few minutes we could hear the loud blasts of air strikes all night long into morning, 6:00 or 7:00 in the morning, blast after blast after blast and could look into the sky and see rockets coming from here in gaza city into israel. i want to show you a picture that our photographer dan morgan was able to take last night around 3:30 in the morning. he s pointing his camera towards what was the police headquarters. hamas police headquarters when he saw this picture. it was a big blast and then a big ball of fire. now, i want to show you what s happened since then. the result of that air strike. i m going to move out of the way here. we are about 11 stories up looking down on the main part of gaza. you are hearing now some of the traffic. there s only been a few cars, but it s a bit