Why didn't he go and pick up his own mother instead of sending your mom?"She shrugged her shoulders in the noncommittal way exclusive to teenagers."No...idea. Maybe mom had to make a run to the store anyway."He followed Erica into the kitchen, where she opened the fridge and studied the assortment of beer crammed into the top shelf. Will looked over her shoulder and shook his head."Cranberry fucking ale. Cranberries belong in a bog or in a sauce with a turkey, that's it. There's no place for them. ’ Pulling her to him tighter he murmured, ‘That’s not true Kat. You’re beautiful and it’s not your fault, you’re a victim. Your whole life is before you. You’ll see. Give it time. I promise it will get better.’ They sat there on the ferry, the coffee and the sandwiches forgotten, the man and woman hugging each other, lost in their own tragedies, as the ship moved on towards the Island, cutting through the cold choppy waters that divided it from mainland Britain. * Phil was busy making. More

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