Another sell-out

I’ve been moved to write for the first time in a while by a shocking experience today.

I was returning from the particularly dispicable doorstepping of a vulnerable member of society when I heard a familiar voice on the radio.

Kate Rusby. Oh she’s so lovely. A voice that could break your heart and all that. Oh yes, this will sooth my tortured soul.

But who’s that singing with her? No … it can’t be. It is, isn’t it.

Ronan Keating. Better known, even to his mother, as Ronan Fucking Keating.

But there it is. Fate rarely smiles on those who doorstep.