After they had eaten, and the plates cleared, Will sat with Dearne in his brother’s comfortable house drinking port and felt the years fall away. How many times had he sipped port after a pleasant meal with good company? He’d missed things like this. Small things, but things which made life comfortable. The full-bodied drink slid easily down his throat, warming him and settling him. Lulling him back into the gentle privilege he had forsaken so long ago. When Dearne held out the bottle to refill his glass he shook his head. He wanted more. Oh, he wanted more all right, but he knew he simply needed to savour the moment, and the memory, and then put it behind him. He no longer belonged in this world, and as he never would again, he needed not to get too comfortable.
“Penny for them,” Dearne
