The crickets chirped and an owl hooted nearby. I heard also thebubbling of water in a stream still swollen from the excessive springrains. Despite the...heat of the night, I saw white smoke rising from thechimney of Goody Whitfield?s little house. She was expecting me. I knewit in my very heart.?What is to become of me here?? I murmured to myself as I made my wayreluctantly down the small rise of a hill and prepared to knock on theweather beaten red door of the cottage. No sooner had I asked. We arrived at my house, a 'tween-wars three bedroom semi in a village about ten miles from town, part of a small group of similar houses situated between the original village and the newer seventies estate. I'd have preferred something with more space and character, but it was all I could afford when I'd divorced seven years earlier. I opened the door and showed her in. "Can I get a shower?" she asked. "I'm all sticky." I showed her up to the bathroom. Being a thirties house, the bathroom was. More

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