I was a brash young idealist journalist when we married; she was a hard-nosed farmer's daughter, and she decided she wanted me, bless her. Her love sh...wed me how to be considerate of other people, and that made me a good editor when this job came up.Jeannette had something of a hard life, being a surrogate mother for an alien child while she was in the RAF, and not even seeing the child when it was born. Then losing her first love to a car crash, and no child from that marriage. It was my Enid. I was still wondering if she had reservations about this evening but I could feel them vanishing as the evening wore on.Sometime after eleven, I became aware that Sylvia was staying close to me. Right by my side in fact. I could feel her hand on my arm quite often and caught her looking at me more than once. She was nursing her white wine just as I was being cautious with my red so I didn't think she'd overindulged. Just the same, there was no mistaking that there had been a change in her. God, where on earth would we fit a baby? Even though we slept in the same bed for much of the time, there were still frequent nights when, for various reasons we preferred to sleep apart. There would be no spare room, or no room for me in Em's bedroom ... Now my mind was beginning to spin as fast as hers. Was she bored? Was it as simple as that? Of course it couldn't be, not with Em, but I had to check for my own peace of mind."Is this because you're not making proper us of that huge brain of. .soonmaking it to the dark corner that I turn on to walk nearby the famedmovie studios I live near, I think I can feel the ghosts of the femmefatales and movie makers that surely haunt the district...Then striding into the residental neighborhood adjacent, I relaxed alittle making my way closer to the Hotel...I was so aware of my glossedlips and cinched waist as I walked.Then approaching headlightsMy heart quickened a littteI was already in full view in the streetlamps, and the.