Isobel smiles. She looks youngernow, her hair's glossy brown without those grey streaks."I don't understand," I whisper. I have a furtive glance aroun... theshop, anybody who might have been eying up a red haired woman enough tosee her transformed has politely looked away. A bracelet, heavy withtiny charms, jingles as I move, my earlobes feel stretched by weightyearrings. That scarlet plait has vanished, a chestnut curtain of haircreeps into my vision and I push it behind my ear so I can see. He and Joe laughed. They both have that ‘melt your panties’ laugh. Luckily, I didn’t wear any to melt. I hate knickers crawling up my arse. The conversation that followed was a little surreal.It was as we were old friends that hadn’t seen each other for a couple of years, rather than the actual thirty years it was. It wasn’t as if we had really dated, either. We’d had for all intent just screwed each other stupid for five weeks. Well, that was mostly how I remembered it.I asked him if he was. More

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