“Let me brush it out for you, though,” Noah said, hopping to his feet to stand behind me. “You need to look professional if anyone comes in to s...e you.” “Sure, of course,” I said. Noah’s fingers sunk through my hair to my scalp. Gently, he began to pull them through. After the first few knots were uncomfortably brushed out, I began to enjoy it. My scalp was tingling, and I sighed quietly, closing my eyes. “So what have you been up to for the past couple hours looking so cute, Nora?” Noah asked. Me not being a dancer, (I never have and never will I am afraid lacking both rhythm and incentive) it meant that disco and that type of avenue was not for me, so my meeting girls was, well, chancy to say the least and when it happened it mostly was doomed to tongue tied failure! My dad was not the boy for ‘the chat’ he being less than communicative by nature and since the war he had had a speech impediment anyway, He worked as a seaman on the train ferries from Dover, so it was left to my. More

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