“They were seated at the table for Christmas dinner, and Derek was carving the turkey.‘Yes, what have you been up to, Dad?’ asked Philip with a grin.The Reverend Derek Bolt was glad that the boys were home, treating the unfortunate scene in the church with light-hearted irreverence.‘Think of all the talk going on as we speak, over the Christmas dinners in Everham,’ said Mark. ‘They’ll be wagging their tongues right up to the Queen’s speech!’Daphne said nothing, but Derek knew that she would retu...rn to the subject. Her expression boded no good to him; she clearly suspected that there must have been some encouragement on his part, for the woman to behave in such a way, and in public. When each of them had been served with a generous helping of turkey breast and stuffing, she started handing round the vegetable and gravy. ‘Wow! This good, Mum! Nobody can roast a spud like you do,’ said Philip. ‘And so say all of us,’ added Mark, in unspoken agreement with his brother to let the subject drop, remembering the despair in the woman’s eyes.After the huge meal, the family sat down to watch a programme on the newly acquired black and white television set, looking back over the past year, especially to the fear and anxiety of the Cuban crisis, thankfully ended by the courage of young President Kennedy, advised, so many British believed, by the more mature wisdom of Prime Minister Harold Macmillan.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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