I sold Larkspur’s position down to twenty-one per cent in the June, because a woman who is on the board should not be hiding behind a vehicle, and the holding is in my own name now.
My name is on a register. Anybody can look it up. It took me twenty years and a glass of champagne.
And I have been back to the farm at Kestrel Fold four times this year, which is four more than the previous three years put together, and my aunt has stopped asking when I am going to bring somebody.
And the navy dress, which I have been asked about by three separate people as though the answer matters.
It went to the cleaners in Brandt Harbour on the Monday. The woman behind the counter looked at the stain and said “champagne” before I said anything, in the tone of somebody who sees four of those a month, which I found more comforting than anything anybody said to me that week.
