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I was delighted at my brother’s progress, but rather miffed that he so rarely came down to visit. He appeared to have settled down to the Spartan ways of the priory. I was not sure that I approved, yet I had to admire his attitude toward helping other alcoholics. And when I thought about it, I could hardly refute that his current life was a quantum improvement on his living in the gutter. As Heather said, “One eventually gets used to the idea,” which was fine until I received his outrageous letter, which had left me reeling. Somehow I managed to hold my indignation in check until I met up with Heather for our usual Friday lunch.
“My dear, this is really a very nice venue,” Heather remarked. My editor said we got wonderful feedback from my gossipy stories, and that it had become a matt
