I picked her up and took her to the sofa. I brought a balm (lotion) to apply it on the sprain. She lifted her gown for me. I was hesitant to touch her... She was clean shaved under there. Her legs felt like silk.I started applying the balm and said sorry. I felt guilty. Tears rolled down my eyes. She smiled and lifted me up saying, “It’s ok Rohan, it’s not your fault. I didn’t see the water on the floor, now stop caring, my baby”.My friend’s mom kissed me on my forehead. I was staring in her eyes. In fact, the whole of North America was open for us to explore and have fun, all at government expense.A week before flying out to Calgary I rang home. It was doubtful if any of my female relatives would speak to me. I knew Miriam certainly wouldn't, and it was touch and go whether my mother would either. My informing on Hodge had put her in a something of a dilemma. In her lexicon grassing someone up was the eighth deadly sin, however grassing up Martin Hodge was something she couldn't argue. But, oh, how bitter it is to watch our hands being drawn up and up by the rope that treats the bit of wood as a t****ze upon our toes only to find it is not enough. We stretch and strain and implore with our eyes as our toes leave the floor and our poor slender thumbs accept the punishment of our weight. We gasp ans moan. Our tortures are happy with our acknowledgement. We hang.They gathered up their gear and went away. No backward glance of pity or of gratitude. We had served them. We were now. ’ ‘Splendid. How about Saturday? We could go into town. I understand one of the hotels offers a very nice lunch, and I’m certain Doris would love to join us. How about we come by with the carriage at around 11:00?’ ‘That sounds lovely.’ ‘I’ll see you then,’ he said. Noting that Billy had stepped into another room to give them a moment of privacy, he quickly placed a kiss on her cheek before tipping his hat and going down the front steps to his waiting carriage. She was so surprised by his kiss,.