Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. She felt it would save explanations if she did not state she had left her home and was looking for employment. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. ’ Melusine swung away and moved to stare dully out of the window of the little chapel vestry onto the mews outside. I must apologize for my young puppy of a clerk. Talked about his years, his position and his constituents, and always sneaked off back to his hotel just when the fun was going to begin.
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