CHAPTER 7
SHE WAS NOT sure how long she had been sitting there, but it began to turn chilly and a biting wind had started to blow around her ankles. Lyn folded up the deckchair and returned it to the under-stairs store cupboard. She looked at the clock in the hallway, which showed ten minutes to five; she had sat there in a stupor for the best part of three hours.
She was seemingly a free woman now, and able to do just exactly what she wished. However, the sudden emancipation was not giving her as much joy as she originally thought it might. She flopped down onto the sofa in the front room, and tried to get her head around her husband’s recent revelations and the effect this would have on her life.
She was fifty-five years old and had never had a job outside the home since she’d bee
