The company had taken on an office junior by the name of Jamie and Peter was showing rather a lot of interest. I just assumed that she was a girl, but...I was wrong. Jamie was a delightful young man straight out of school. I think it was early winter when I noticed that I was putting on weight at an alarming rate; something was very wrong. Graham, our elderly neighbour and my gardener, would often call by for morning coffee. I enjoyed his company; he told me stories about his time during the war. “I thought you hated that question.” “I hate getting asked it. I don’t mind doing the asking.” She propped herself up on one elbow and turned to him, “Why do you hate it so?” He took a long time before answering. It was not an angry pause, or a sad pause, or even thoughtful. It was just the two of them in the bed together. Outside in the early morning cars passed by. Headlights skittered across the far wall, curving away and out of sight. “It’s not fair. That question.” “Why not?” “Because. More

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