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Revealing the past was not an option for Jessie . . .
BY FIONA THOMSON
Creaking into the dusty, lookout point, Jessie pulled on the handbrake. Jumping out, she slammed the door. Clouds of grit tailed her maxi skirt to the front of the camper van. Lifting the bonnet, Jess
MUM?” Becky said. “When did you know Dad was the man for you?” “What? Pretty early, I think,” Frances replied, taken aback. “It’s so far in the past, I can’t remember.” “It’s important. Try and think
FREE! I’m free at last!” “Oh, Lionel, anyone would think you’d just been released from prison,” Jeanette, his wife, replied. “Well, I have. Since I decided to retire, working my notice has seemed like
S a ffy and Neil had been married ...
DONNIE opened his cottage door and smiled warmly. “Well, well. Wee Frannie and her white shadow. Come away in.” “I’ve come to pay for the groceries,” Frances said. “They were a real lifesaver. Oh, and
SATURDAYS were no fun when Mum was on shift. She’d made it clear that while she was at the hospital, whoever was left in the house was expected to get on with all the jobs that had to be done. Today t