: Wendy Robertson
: 63.83 MB
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Mary's broad face, marred today by a livid weal on the lefthand side, went
brickred. 'Eeh, hinny. What must yer
think?' 'I think my dad's a stupid man, and
you...' 'Eeh, Ah'm that sorry, hinney. No harm meant, yer
know. A bit o' comfort all
round.' 'Comfort!' 'Well, hinney, yer
da's a canny man. A lonely man. A kind man.'
She thought of the silver swallow brooch nestling among her pillowcases. 'An' up
here it's, like, Ah'm just another bit of stock, like some prize sheep o' Tot's,
fattening up for ...