. .’ ‘Tell me what you’re afraid of, baby.’ ‘That you won’t come back. That I’ll be alone again. I don’t want . . . I can’t . . .’...and she broke down again in to the music of her private symphony of despair. ‘You’ll never go back there, darlin’,’ Ed said in velvet soft whispers of reassurance. ‘You don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’ve taken care of all of that, Sara. If I die tomorrow, I’ll still be able to keep you from going back there. But, now listen to me honey, I’m not going to. Chris had an eye for property and chose a reasonably large three bed roomed bungalow in the suburbs of London. Jacqui was given free rein to decorate and created a thing of beauty after many long, often-tedious head banging sessions with the builders.They had their big cars, Chris liked the under stated lines of his 911 while she chose a Mercedes SLK 320. They ate wherever they liked and enjoyed some of the more exotic locations for holidays. Their clothing reflected their lifestyle, designer. More

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