.. of wanting to hold and be held by her.Not so with Ivan.I never liked him. Not once, not ever. It wasn't that I hated him — exactly. He'd ignored,...taunted, threatened and abused me for most of my childhood. We'd never been pals or buddies, never had the fractious fraternal relationship that I'd observed between other siblings, including my own. I'd feared him, which considering the difference in our ages was not an unreasonable reaction on my part, and having feared him for so long I suppose. At last Martin was able to sit and relax. Kate leaned across, kissed him on the cheek and whispered a thank you in his ear. Once the other speeches had been delivered and the tables cleared, the band began to play. Leo sat on his father’s lap, still holding a champagne glass full of lemonade, with which he had enthusiastically drunk the toasts. He was in deep conversation with his grandmother about the band, the music, and how pretty Auntie Kate looked dancing with Uncle Nigel. Martha leaned. More

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