But in spite of being bullied, I never retaliated aggressively. The aunties would clear the room and go and pour themselves a wee snowballīecause of that, I never, ever fitted in. The general attitude in the playground was: “Who the fuck are you?” I’d belt out Engelbert Humperdinck. The name Spiteri was weird and we had different accents from everyone else. As we hadn’t grown up in Loch Lomond, we were the new faces in town. But that was just a momentary escape from the reality of school. I’d be gone all day looking at tadpoles and the waterfalls, skimming stones, swimming in the loch and climbing trees. They were right to some extent – I did love the adventures in the national park. They were hoping that by leaving the city they’d give my sister and me a better life in the countryside. My parents moved to Loch Lomond when I was 11 and we got a slightly bigger house. I never realised how intense that was until I had my own daughter and thought: “Imagine having to share a room with your own actual kid? Misty doesn’t know she’s born!” We were living in a one-bed flat, and my sister and I slept in bunkbeds in the same room as my parents. I guess my parents wanted to bring some Hollywood glamour into our home. My grandad built that crazy brick fireplace as he was a stonemason. But as Dad was at sea for months on end, it was important that Mum could take photos of me and my sister for him. As a very quiet child, I was in my own little world a lot of the time, and I wouldn’t have been massively enthusiastic about posing like this. I was four years old and looking like a meringue on the floor of my childhood home in Glasgow when this was taken.
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