My mother made me what I am. She gave me the greatest gift a mother can give — the desire to excel (超越). She taught me to read before I was four. She also encouraged me to write. When I was 10, I wrote a story and she sent it to a children's magazine. They accepted it and paid me some money. So I started earning money by writing at a young age.
I also learned a lot from my father. He'd say, "Stand tall, be independent and keep your eyes open." For what, I don't know! He was quite good at telling stories, and I think I inherited my gift for storytelling from him. But he could be pretty strict. If I went out with a boy, he had to pick me up from home so my father could question him inside out.
My father was 6 feet tall and good-looking, with great charm. He lost a leg m the war while serving in the Royal Navy, but never let it hold him back. When he was in hospital, ready to have his leg amputated, he said, not depressed, "Well, half a loaf is better than none." After his death, I returned his artificial leg to the hospital, but walked away in tears. It felt as if I was giving part of him away.
My parents had a son, Vivian, who died before I was born, so my mother put all her love into me. She also gave me an. education I couldn't get at school. She took me to the pictures every week, to the theatre to see the Russian ballet whenever it came to Leeds, where we lived.
At 20, I moved to London to become fashion editor of Woman's Own and later a columnist on the London Evening News. The day I left home, my mother wrote in her diary that all the sunshine had gone out of her life when her daughter left home.
