I silently cursedAlexander Graham Bell and his seeming desire to give marketing clowns anopportunity to interrupt our mealtimes, and answered the phon...."Could I speak to... um... Yvette, please?" It was a teenage girl."Who's speaking?" It's Jane. Jane Morgan," I recognised the name, and realised I knew thevoice as well. Ashley was friends with Jane's younger sister, Bronwyn.Jane was in Jason's class at school.Returning to the dining room, I told Yvette who was on the phone. Herface turned. She’s disappointed. “I’m sorry,” I add. “I can’t be.”“Okay …” she says. It’s pathetic. God, is everything about her always so pathetic?I get down on my knees and lift her chin, looking her in the eye. “Hey, listen,” I say. She has such pretty eyes. I lean in and kiss her forehead. “I’m here, okay?” I kiss her forehead again and bring her to my chest. “I’m here, but I’m not her. Okay? I’m not her.” I feel her nod against my chest. I expect her to cry, but no sound comes. I pull her head back and. More

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