Chapter Seven
It was just gone six when I heard Fiona’s car pull into the drive.
To say I was in a state of some agitation would be comparable to saying Iran had a leader who wasn’t too keen on America and the West.
The understatement of all understatements.
What would I say to her?
What could I say to her?
My love for the woman was extinguished, that was for sure.
There was not the slightest doubt in my mind of that.
But –and it was a huge ‘But’- I was out of all options and alternatives and; though it shames me to admit; felt truly terrified at what awaited me when I threw myself on the mercy of Cameron and Clegg’s welfare-state and their attempt to reduce a deficit created by other culprits; screwing, in the process, those least able to afford a reduction in their circumstances.
