21
My mother caught a bus after tea on Sunday afternoon, so she could be home in time for dinner. I had a feeling we were both looking around for Adam as we walked along Mill Lane, but there was no sign of him. Watching my mother wave energetically at me through the bus window, I felt unexpectedly bereft. As the bus began to move, she turned away, probably to tell the woman seated beside her that she had been visiting her daughter. I smiled, wondering what silly boasts she would be making about me as the bus accelerated away down the road, leaving me alone with my dog. Seeming to understand how I was feeling, Poppy pressed her warm little body against my leg and nuzzled my ankle.
‘I know,’ I told her, leaning down to scratch her neck, ‘I’ve got you. What would I do without you? I’d be a
