EpilogueOlive rocked back in her comfortable velvet-covered armchair and popped another lemon bonbon into her mouth, they'd always been her favourites and reminded her of a time long ago when she'd been a young girl. She eyed two of her grandchildren, now sitting on the green velvet sofa opposite. Olive was still fairly nimble and healthy at the grand old age of ninety-six, despite decades of smoking and drinking copious amounts of red wine. The lines on her aged face were nothing more than slight ridges and she could easily have been mistaken for a woman of some twenty years younger. She wondered what the two women on the sofa were thinking as they stared across at her.
“And that is the story of the village”, Olive concluded, slapping her hands on her knees in defeat, “Now you know every
