‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. On Friday Michelle found Lucy while waiting in line by the soda machine. Sheppard. ‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’ ‘Certainly not. I know in Paris you pinched and scraped that your sister might have the dresses and entertainments she desired. Michelle was on her like a fly, asking her questions about her past foster homes she did her best to avoid, pretending to be swamped every night with sudden reams of homework and unable to be reached by phone. It was bad luck to go to Canongate. She had omitted that the flu had been called the Black Death and that it was a dead child that had been inside that womb, so many hundreds of years ago. A little Madeira seemed to recover her enough to resume the discussion.
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