Arrangements; get me my clothes.”I tried to keep him in bed, “No I’ll...”He pushed back again, harder. He was shaking like he was cold. He sai..., “No, get my clothes. Go start the car.”I backed off. I found and handed him his clothes, “Mrs. Abercrombie has the girls.”He wouldn’t look at me, “Take me to the station. Then get the girls and go home.”I volunteered, “I’ll come with you.”He glared at me, “Did you hear me. Get the girls and go home. Don’t tell them anything. I’ll do that.”I tried to. ’ This was the first time that Maggie had really talked to me about her first husband, I only vaguely remembered him as a tall kindly man who wore horned rimmed spectacles and tweed jackets, and built bonfires at the bottom of the garden and roasted chestnuts for the twins, me and Emma in the autumn, and played beach cricket with us in the summer. I was only six when he died, it was so long ago I couldn’t even remember being sad… he just wasn’t there anymore. Feeling the way that I did about. More

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