Straw-chewing locals emerged from their chocolate-box cottages to observe our caribou-like migrations across the tarmac’d tundra. I guess the yokels...hadn’t got the telly down their way yet. Dad was ever the independent type. He wouldn’t ask strangers for help, including water. The car was steaming like a locomotive on an impossible incline, but it was Mum, the non-driver, who had to fetch water from the next petrol station, while the car crawled along, narrowing the return walk. Nobody sold. Blueberry raised the cake and bowed hishead in prayer. Then I turned and ran.That little encounter made up my mind for me, finally. People are goingto judge, no matter what I look like. The same goes for Rachael andSusan. The only way to avoid that is to become invisible the way I wasbefore Tom and the girls found me. Alone and invisible. No thank you.+The fight started in the living room although he'd been grumpy andirritable all evening, even when he kissed the girls goodnight. Hell,Tom had. More

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