They wouldn’t even let me stay here in the lodge, all bloody hush hush or some such rot. Anyway, I had a word with Winston and, well, here I am. It�...�s not the same but at least I’m still here.”Winston? I thought, Winston Churchill? Portia read my mind.“He’s an old friend of Daddy’s.” Well, he would be, wouldn’t he?“Tea?” Camilla looked at the clock. “No, gin, I think, don’t you?”She went to a table to one side of the room and poured us all substantial gins and tonic and we sat on comfortable but. They all looked run down, with bags in their eyes, unflattering clothes revealing poorly done tattoos on the cleavage that bore stretch marks. He quickly picked up on the running theme; Divorced mums who had forgotten to take care of themselves.He was looking at these profiles over and over, all with pretty much the same story, then he found her. “Karen, 58” it said underneath a tasteful photo of her sat reading a book in the garden, wearing a pristine white blouse. “Widowed. Mum of one adult. More

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