" We'll get a taxi. I'm exhausted," his wife barked back. "I barely got a wink of sleep on the train last night." Her husband dutifully joined the lon... queue waiting for cabs and half-an-hour later they pulled up outside the Kershaw's apartment block, behind the famous Prado art gallery."And don't tip him, Maurice." Why ever not?" Because he didn't open the door for me to get in at the station."The elderly woman lumbered into the building's entrance hall, leaving her hen-pecked husband to. If she could have turned me into a priest or monk, she would have been overjoyed with that outcome for me, her first and only child, her Son.My Father was a weak willed man, who loved my Mother to a fault, and gave her full control over my upbringing, blinding himself to her near madness on the subject of me, insane in his own little way about one little item- his baby boy's treatment at the hands of his beloved wife.I mean, an infant, even one six times stronger than others, is still an. More

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