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‘Something not unpleasant, I think,’ Sam said. He placed the package on her desk and uncharacteristically stayed for her reaction. She pushed aside the protective wrapping paper to reveal a stained glass white bird and a stained glass red rose bloom. She pulled them out, turning them around. They were well done, with small loops at the top to allow them to be hung. ‘There’s a note,’ Sam said, indicating the package. He was happily anxious. She reached in and pulled out a handwritten note. I deserve none of the freedom or love you have given me, so I share it with you. I will do my best to see that your trust is not wasted. Samantha Amber Winslow P.S. Lizzy made the rose. She says hi. Singer held up the freedom dove and the lovely rose again. A smiled crossed her lips. ‘You’re right Sam, not unpleasant at all.’ It was not what she expected. She had second guessed her dealings with Mark Winslow over and over. One of her failings she had thought. She was sure he brought the child to. ‘That’s exactly what I must do. I really need to talk to Mum.’ The way Polly Tarantella describes the conversation that followed between Crystal and Marianne it’s as if we were all in the same room. But of course we weren’t. Crystal was standing in the hotel phone booth with a cardboard phone credit card while I was hovering around within earshot but not part of the conversation. And at the other end of the telephone in San Francisco—almost as far away across the American continent as we were across the Atlantic Ocean from England—was Marianne and, somewhere in the background, was her new boyfriend, John Dimple, whose relationship with her mother Crystal was evidently eager to encourage. ‘John’s good for you, Mum,’ said Crystal. ‘From what you’ve told me about him, he’s exactly the kind of man you need in your life right now.’ Obviously I couldn’t hear Marianne’s reply but I could see Crystal nod her head and interject with the occasional ‘Yes’ and ‘No’. ‘Of course you must live.
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