My first lesson in the dangers of trusting strangers came in 1983, not long after I turned five, when an unfamiliar woman entered our house. Doris, from Glasgow, was in her late 20s and starting as our nanny. My mum had found her through a posh magazine called The Lady.Doris arrived wearing a Salvation Army uniform, complete with bonnet. I remember her thick Scottish accent, Mum recalls. She told me shed worked with kids of a similar age and was a member of the Salvation Army because she enjoyed helping people. But, honestly, she had me at hello.Doris lived with us for 10 months. For the most part she was a good nanny cheerful, reliable and helpful. There was nothing unusual about her, aside from a few unexplained absences at weekends.
Källa: Who do you trust? How data is helping us decide | Technology | The Guardian
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