I’m not Gerald, remember. She bolted upright as she heard footsteps rumble towards the door, cursing UPS for being so damn persistent in such foul weather. He was still thickly clad in jeans. Anna looked at her, startled. “What has he done? “What shall I do. ” “Auntie?” asked Constance, who was conversant with Ann Veronica’s affairs. Clear water gave away to gray as she waded deeper, feeling her slippers on rock. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. Her hair was held back in a filigreed barrette. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively.
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