I know his little gestures so well and I can see her responding to them differently to the way I would have. Is that exciting? That she responds diffe...ently? He is so familiar to me, it is like we are one. She is a stranger. Yet, looking from across the road it is almost like I am she and she is me. She is in the place that is rightfully mine, and I am the stranger. Witness to their flirting. But that is not entirely so, because a stranger wouldn’t be torn in two. A stranger wouldn’t care. A. Anxiously I waited for the weekend to come, the time dragged by, but at last it was Friday afternoon and I was free until Monday. Rushing home I raced up to my room, rushed through some paperwork I'd brought home and then put my plan into effect. It started with me going downstairs to the living room, pouring a glass of mum's favourite tipple and taking it to her in the kitchen."Thank you Chris," she half smiled as I handed her the glass, "how sweet of you."I stood and watched her sip her drink. More

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