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Real PeopleReal People

Real People Issue 33 2019

Real People is a real-life title which delivers real-life stories, puzzles (and prizes) and affordable practical advice (food, fashion & beauty).

País:
United Kingdom
Língua:
English
Editora:
Hearst Magazines UK
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ASSINATURA
US$26,68
52 Edições

NESTA EDIÇÃO

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this week in your fab value

Ever wondered what you’d do if someone accused your partner of a terrible crime? Or tutted, all judgy, at the blind faith of a mum shouting, ‘My boy didn’t do it – he’s an angel!’ Well, Melinda’s story is really going to get you thinking, then (p12). She woke one summer morning to cops swarming her home, there to cart ! her hubby, Clarence, off, accused of rape and murder A 58-year-old woman had been slaughtered in a sickening sex crime. A small child she’d been babysitting was also raped and left for dead. Melinda point-blank refused to believe her Clarence could have done it. But now I’d better tell you who the victims were. The murdered woman? Melinda’s own mother. The raped child? Her sister’s six-year-old. Yet still she clung to…

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our mad world!

Cute KIDS LITTLE ICE QUEEN My daughter, Bree, two, is always happiest with an ice cream in her hand! Daniella Truby, New Barnet, Herts UK Nothing says ‘thank you’ to the nurses that looked after you in hospital more than giving them leftover cake from your grandson’s 18th birthday, laced with cannabis to get you off your face. The cake was later removed by cops after complaints by Warrington Hospital staff. HOLEY IN ONE! A decision by Rochester Cathedral bosses to turn the nave into a nine-hole crazy golf course – to draw in more people – has angered congregation and clergy who branded it a mockery. ‘I was ordained in this Cathedral. What an embarrassing shambles,’ said Father David Palmer. SWEAT IT OUT Personal trainers reveal some of their weirdest client requests… • Nude training sessions • Oiled up, bare-chested…

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soap on a rope

East Enders Ben throws a party to welcome Phil home. Yay! But Phil sees through Ben’s efforts and, as soon as everyone leaves, fronts him up, demanding to know about his argument with Jay. Ben rubbishes it off before legging it to Jay to warn him. Phil, however, beats him to it... Later, when Shirley pops into the Arches, Phil tells her he remembers something. Has it got anything to do with why Kat finds Phil waiting for her in the Slaters’ kitchen? What has Phil figured out? Is he on to Ben and Kat? How long before he uncovers the whole truth of his attack? Elsewhere… Things between Max and Rainie are so bad that they’ve lost sight of the most important thing to them. No! Not themselves – baby Abi. To…

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cruel intentions

The lifeguard’s whistle echoed in the distance, along with the shrieks and splashes of Saturday morning swimming lessons down my local leisure centre. ‘Slow down,’ I chuckled to my two girls as they ran off to the changing rooms, itching to get wet. ‘Danielle, hi!’ I whipped my head round to see Reece Thompson, 23. ‘You look nice,’ he grinned. ‘Cheers,’ I laughed, hardly looking my Friday-night best. As usual, Reece had an entourage of girls following him around. He worked at the leisure centre, but his fame came from being the star player for the local football team, Guiseley. Good-looking, with a cheeky, boyish grin, he could have the pick of them. But for the past few months he’d been messaging me on Facebook, telling me how lovely I was and asking me out. His sunshine smile,…

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rock bottom

As I crept out of the bathroom, he ordered me upstairs, holding a metal bar in his hands. It was part of the bedroom cupboard, which was splintered, its door in a thousand bits. He ordered me to lie on the bed, face down, naked. Then, THUMP! Pain erupted like a volcano. I panted for breath before another blow fell from the cold metal pipe. ‘You can either have five more lashings or I’ll shave your hair,’ he yelled. I couldn’t understand the cruelty. It was sadistic. He seemed to lust after it. ‘Lashings?’ I sobbed. He thwacked the bar on my back, ribs, buttocks… When he stopped, he took a step back to take in what he’d done. ‘I can’t believe I did that,’ he laughed. It was as though he’d accidentally broken a glass, not smashed the house up. Smashed…

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cake walk!

Strolling down the high street four years ago, I passed the florist’s shop front. Glancing through the window, I jumped in fright, startled by a pair of beady eyes watching me. But as the figure moved to the window, I recognised him by his whiskers. ‘Wilbur!’ I burst out. ‘What are you doing here?’ My ginger moggie plonked himself down in the flower display and, as I spotted the ‘closed’ sign on the door, I realised he was locked in. I’d rescued Wilbur as a kitten in 2009, and my daughter Charlotte was besotted with him. She loved to snuggle him up in a blanket with her. But as Wilbur grew older, he ventured further and further away until nowadays, in April this year, I barely saw him. Despairing, I posted cat biscuits through the…

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