“Lesbian romance?” Mrs. Henderson apparently had less trouble voicing it. I nodded, but then that guarded expression creeped back into her eyes, a...d I knew that I had to say something to break through her fears. I hadn’t thought about what being a lesbian could, or would, mean to her, especially in academic surroundings. My hands trembled. I tried to look into her eyes, but I couldn’t manage. It took all I had to keep my voice above a whisper. “I learned something about me when I read the book.. She could take some more photos playing with The Knife, then if she snapped off the blade she could pose as if she had thrust it deep through her abdomen. Blood. She would need blood. She considered tomato ketchup, but no, if she was to destroy The Knife in order to get the ultimate pics of it thrust into her belly it would need to be real blood. The butchers? No, what would she say she wanted it for, making black pudding wasn't blood used for that? Too much chance of being asked questions she. More

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