He stayed where he was, staring intently at me, confusion causing his voice to tremble slightly. ‘Annalee Theakston?’
‘My name is Veronica; Veronica Maddox; my friends call me Vee but you can call me Ms Maddox.’
Slowly gathering his thoughts Munroe said, ‘No, I’ll call you Miss Theakston because that’s who you are.’ He shuffled forward and obediently placed a couple of logs on the fire, watching as they slowly ignited.
‘But that’s exactly who I’m not as you were so at pains to point out.’
We sat in silence knowing that when we spoke the atmosphere would be a bruise between us of mutually inflicted pain. Eventually, his eyes on the carving knife, Munroe asked, ‘What are you planning to do?’
‘I just want to talk.’
‘I have nothing I want to say to you.’
‘No, but I have plenty I want to
