FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. ’ ‘I thought so,’ Gerald said with satisfaction. If you will have your peg, take it with plain water. “We pretend bodies are ugly. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. ‘Ah, no,’ Gerald uttered at once, lowering his voice and infusing it with all the promise he could command. These things did not harmonize with his conception of the forthcoming (if unavoidable) interview. In others, she acts with the speed and surety of the loosed arrow. “There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted.
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