“You know, Jessica, we do have chairs. I could have a table brought in for you.”“I like the floor. I can lie down and stuff while I do my homewo...k.”“Does Martin let you do that? It’s ... it’s not very lady-like.”“Yup. Daddy’s okay with it. Maybe it’s not good for grown-ups, but I’m a kid, so...” She let her reply die off, as if it was self-explanatory.“Yes, well, all right. Your mother never sprawled on the floor, but you are a child. Remember that we are coming into the offices on. He’ll be here any minute.’ And sure I was sure he was fine. Fine. I worried anyway. Eventually he came, of course. But he was quite obviously not fine. He walked very slowly, bag in tow, all pale. I rushed to him and gave him the biggest but softest hug I could. We found a place to sit and he held on to me like I was his nest now and I suppose I was. ‘It was so terrible,’ he whispered. ‘Cold clammy like old porridge glue with no air or dry hot dusty papers with no air. I could not leave them. More

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