“ These are my secrets. ~ ~ ~ Faith gets home barely an hour before Don. "Hi, Don. How are you? You look tired. Good game?" "What? Oh yeah. I didn't think you were talking to me." "Me? Oh, well, as you like... Don, it's my birthday next Saturday." "So that's what this is all about." "What?" "The sudden thaw! End of the Cold War!" "Don, I'm trying to tell you something." "That you're sorry, I hope." "Don, I don't think it's me that should apologise, but if you insist..., Sorry! There you are. Now I just wanted to say I've invited a couple of people round for tea on my birthday." "You're having a party?" "No, just a couple of people, Pearl for one." "From your work. Not that Owen as well?" "Of course not! Just this woman I met." "What woman? Where did you meet 'just this woman'?" "You'll laugh Don. At the launderette. I met her the other week, you know, when the water flooded everywhere." "The launderette! A friendship forged in the fires of adversity, or should I say the floods of adversity? Is she a girl guide too, always ready to do her bit?" "Sometimes Don, it goes right over my head. You know that, don't you?" "Faith, have your soiree! I assume I'm invited, too?" "Of course." "I'm getting used to your hair, by the way." "It's grown a bit." "Thank God and Mother Nature!" Sunday, March 13. PM. At the same time, less than a mile from Faith and Don's terraced house, a tall dark woman enters a warm, shabby living room. She is dressed for cold weather in a long slate-blue overcoat with a turned-up black fake-fur collar. A stockier, fairer, older woman turns to greet her as she enters. The older woman smiles and speaks, but remains seated.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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