Sally, for those of you who have read Chloe, married the delectable Richard Stonehill on the shores of Loch Lomond one summer. In true Sally style, she decided not to wear pants under her frock. She gave them to Chloe to hide in her rucksack.
The Stonehills had a belated honeymoon in Bali, as Richard was busy in his architecture practise working on a new restaurant project for Marco Pierre White.
Sally has been promoted at the Primary School, which is great for her bank account but means she has increased responsibilities and had to forego the annual trip to Paris. Jolly good thing too, I say, because she got up to all sorts of mischief and very nearly came a-cropper when she was last there.
Richard sold his bachelor pad in Notting Hill and Sally sold her tiny flat in Highgate. With property prices being utterly silly in London, they both made huge profits, which they ploughed into a very nice Victorian terrace house in Muswell Hill. It’s not highly convenient for Richard’s work but he bought a motorbike much to Sally’s protestations. She resolutely refuses to ride on the back of it, though secretly she’d quite like to as she’d like the excuse to buy a pair of leather trousers.
Sadly, Sally’s beloved Aunt Celia passed away but left the house on Mull to her precious niece. Sally and Richard will be spending the Millennium there with their friends Bob, Catherine and baby Victoria.