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She may not have understood the French, but she clearly comprehended the emotional content of what had passed between her daughter and me.She gave me ...n understanding smile, picking up the glass and drained the small remaining mouthful.Col jumped up and retrieved a package wrapped in blue tissue paper, tied with a delicate bow of thin white ribbon, from the dresser drawer. She sat down and slid it across to me.I smiled at Col, recognising the carefully preserved paper, and opened the package: a. Jesus, Jesus ... is, is...” she trailed off. “No! Not true. Not true. Not true!” Her voice ... querulous, odd tone to it.I took a deep breath and was about to turn to look at Dulcie. Out of my depth, yes. But she was there beside me, radiating serenity.“Alice,” she was speaking quietly. “Look at me, Alice.”“No ... stay away from me. Who are you? Like Don. He scared me too.”“Alice ... don’t you want to be free?”“Free?” That voice was different again. “If Alice is free, what happens to me?”“AH!”. More

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