Not much. All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. They struck her as cold and indifferent. Lucy finished Michelle off, leaving only a dry, unrecognizable husk. It was the last thing she felt like drinking. Heaven knows why! They don’t marry most of us off now until high up in the twenties. ‘I try to be. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. But, when? When do they go?’ ‘Today, miss.
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