“When first asked by George Batchelor, he had quite looked forward to this. He had thought a good deal about Clara Moss, that small, thin woman whom his father called Mrs. Mopp and scorned behind her back. After Anita had gone, no one else but Michael was there for him to say unpleasant things to about Clara, how stupid she was, how inefficient, what a hopeless cleaner. She always wore plimsolls, as trainers were called then, and a cotton crossover overall, but even John Winwood couldn’t call he...r dirty. Michael liked the hugs she occasionally gave him because she smelled of Wright’s coal tar soap. Her hands were scrubbed until they were red and her nails to whiteness. He had noticed that the wedding ring she wore on the third finger of her left hand was loose, slipping up and down, because she had grown so thin after her husband was killed. One day it was lost. The tale of her losing it stayed in his child’s memory for ever. Anita was still there when it happened, and how to deal with it, or not deal with it, was almost the only time he remembered his parents being in accord over anything.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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