Not now." Aye," came the reply. "And Portsmouth is no place for us anymore. Timeto go over the hill."The two women packed their meagre belongings in a... old, slightly rusty,pram, and set out for the long walk north out of Portsmouth, past theshell of the Guildhall, along Commercial Road, up Portsdown Hill, andthrough village after village on the road to London until they finallyarrived at the little bungalow that Doris had bought with money from avariety of sources, some legal and some not. It. The bedposts were pounding on the opposite side of the wall like jungle d**gs beating out a coded message. To my husband it could have been the undying heart from Poe's The Tell Tale Heart drumming a message of guilt and shame. To me it was beautiful.THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMPI roll over onto my side away from my husband.I cannot see his face behind the newspaper but I can image the expression as being pinched and reddening. I don't want him to see any sort of suspicious movement under the. More

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