By Anne Goodwin
Liesel stamped her boots on the frosty tarmac. I pressed the doorbell and flashed her a reassuring smile. “It might be kind of weird. She didn’t even recognize me last time.”
“I’ll take her as I find her. Don’t worry about it, Steve.”
The door swung open, blasting us with tropical air. We whipped off hats and scarves and gloves as we followed the receptionist’s directions to the dining room.
The walls were hung with nineteenth-century street-scenes in nostalgic sepia. The air was whiffy with stewed brussels sprouts. Several tables dotted the room, but only one was occupied. Over by the patio doors out to the courtyard garden, Mum was playing dominoes with one of the care assistants. [Read more…] about No Milk or Sugar