“Greg, meet Laura and Gemma.” “Hi Greg!” They said together. “Yeah Hi. Pleased to meet you,” he said, his voice betraying his nerves. “I...think you need some Dutch courage Greg. Can I get you a Scotch or something?” “Yeah, straight please. Better make it a double,” he said. Gemma looked at Greg minutely, as if she was studying an exhibit. Laura just beamed at him, keen to get on with it. Greg downed his whiskey in one go and passed me the tumbler back. “So this is the deal Greg. My friend Gemma. She shifted behind me, sometimes her small breast grazing my back as she worked.“Okay,” she said, her voice gentle. She leaned me over. “Come on, Becky, you look exhausted. Let’s get you beneath the covers.”“Mmm, you don’t want to fuck?” I muttered, my voice slurred. I didn’t fight her as she stretched me out on the bed.She stared down at me and fluffed my pillow. “I’ll be here in the morning. Just get some sleep.”She leaned down and planted an almost chaste kiss on my mouth, barely more than a. “Yeah, I saw the guy grab her and force her into the room.” “He came around and broke the door in.” “I don’t know, from the time he went through the door to the time the other guy came flying out of it was maybe five seconds, if that long.” “No, I could see in the door and he never hit the guy. Just threw him onto the grass and sat on him.” Cat and I spent about half an hour telling the cops what happened, and then I thanked the guys who’d helped out, especially the one who stopped his story to. You could tell that everyone was excited by the hush from everyone, even the kids.I heard Marion and Virginia mentally talking to Trixie, Dixie, Tom, and Michael in my head. The six were having a mental conversation, knowing that their mother, grandmother, Etta, Lisa, and I were probably listening. I suppose they felt as if what was said with their mental capabilities was totally different than the spoken word.Mercy was sitting across the aisle from me, and Etta was sitting next to me. Mercy.