He ran his hand through the sable softness of her hair, her pseudo-punk days washed out with the blue hair dye. In many ways, she had returned to the ...ame girl he had first met, more sure of herself than anything else. It was his turn to be the vulnerable one, to put it all on the line for one chance to fully be happy with himself. Yet unlike Amata finding herself on her own, Eric found himself in her, could only define himself through her. The kiss deepened as they both entwined their limbs. Iris would walk home in a group of other domestic servants in the hope that sheer numbers would provide the desperately needed security for the next several kilometres walk and subsequent bus-ride. When she at last settled down on the decrepit ancient bus with its smashed-up security camera and punched-open windows that let in the wind and rain, she watched the North West London streets on the journey to her house-share just by the periphery of Heathrow Airport.Once upon a time, this had been a. More

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