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Show THE BRUISE-9 a little too much to drink and he was kissing Madge goodnight, you know the way the men do sometimes, but he was you know, French kissing her, and he didn't even realize the effect of it. I know because I asked him." "How could he not know?" My mother smiles, tilts her head, looks cheerful. "He is innocent." After I pour us some more wine, which I know my mother will not drink, I say, "You know I can never live at home again." I draw in my breath, afraid I have said too much." But she smiles, bends down, picks up an apple and seems to study it. "Of course you can't. You're grown up now. You've got a career. You're the strong one, I've always said so." "Mom," I say quickly because I know I will never again be able to pursue this. "I can't because of Dad." She squeezes the apple, runs her thumb across the smooth skin. "I know Dad is difficult, my dear. But you need to understand, he's a Victorian. He dreams." We say nothing for a few moments while a fire engine screams and blares past the window. The louvres do nothing to deaden the terrible sound, but it is always better once it gets past the window. The doppler effect. "No. That's not what I mean." I say, taking my fingers out of my ears. "I'm tired just now, train ride was so bumpy. Can we sleep soon?" I would like to tell her just that I am not feeling well and could she bring me some tea. I would like to have a bleeding elbow she could kiss. But she is tired and I am too old for all that. And someone is at the door. The knock startles me so that I jump. A knock always makes the fear leap inside me, |