Emma eventually arrived at Maisie’s home in a pleasant tree-lined suburban street. She sat in the car, while Maisie got out and thanked her for the ...ift. Yes, she’d love a lift next time: it saved her train fare and loads of time. Emma watched Maisie go to her front door and briefly saw her mother: a woman in her late thirties with a thin face and mousey brown hair. She watched Maisie enter the house and felt a strange spasm of sadness as Maisie waved goodbye. Emma drove back to her flat (a. " Cool?" Yeah. Cool. Well, depends on how you feel about it, of course." She went on before I could say something. "I'd say you're totally curious, you enjoyed the moments when she took control even when you were embarrassed and you're also not sure what to do."That was a perfectly accurate assessment in one single sentence. "Yes. That's true. But why is that cool?" Because you just have to go with the flow." Uh huh." I had been so far too in my thinking."And if you don't like it you just say. More

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