She’d done a lot of kissing, and she’d let a few boys stroke her breasts through her clothing. To be honest, the whole Uncle Dean thing had been p...t in a cubby hole marked, “Strange things, involving strange people, which I can’t forget about.” It hadn’t been a bad experience for her. It had answered some questions. But it hadn’t been a life-changing event, either. She hadn’t fallen madly in love with Uncle Dean and she hadn’t been interested in there being a chapter two. Her Aunt Lucy had. One or two monks remained, prostrated in prayer, but I was the sole visitor to stay in my seat in this cold and gloomy chapel. After the last monk eventually shuffled out, I rose from my pew and approached the altar which was flanked by single rows of tall choir stalls. Incense still hung in the air, though I detected a subtle ‘undercurrent’ of a fragrance by Elie Saab. I took a seat and studied the huge tapestry altar cloth. Its vertical gilded threads seemed to become iridescent as the flame. More

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