I'd interject once-in-awhile, but, I just liked to, well, yes, watch.---------And it was amazing how we'd become so comfortable around one another so ...apidly. I thought nothing of the fact that she was perched on his lap like that. Seemed so natural, even though the sight was striking. There was a beauty there, the contrast in color and size perhaps? Yes, but, there was more. It would take time and we had that, that time was en route. Time to look at them, consider them and make umpteen. Everything about Helping Hands is informal. Occasional coffee mornings in the village hall serve as a focal point. Nothing untoward happens but newcomers can be looked over, innocent invitations offered. A suggestion that a man might help out with a little D-i-Y project, or perhaps an offer to iron a shirt or lend a book. Pretexts are easy; what then happens behind closed doors is a matter for two people and no-one else. But what is clear is that Helping Hands has a purpose much more basic than. More

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