“Who?” she frowned, the first hum of confusion manifesting itself at the back of her mind. She’d longed for something to puncture the silence; she just hadn’t expected her father to say anything as indiscriminately random.
“Laurence,” he answered her.
“Laurence?” The name rang a faint bell.
“He’s still working there. In the paper shop, I mean. Been there for years now. You’d think he would have found himself a proper job, wouldn’t you? Settled down? Made an honest woman of that – what’s her name?” The end of Tom’s sentence drifted away as he searched his memory for a name that wasn’t forthcoming.
In a rush of recollection, Clarissa latched on to who the mysterious “Laurence” was. She let her lips curve into a light smile as she released a breath. “Dad – they did. They got married. Laur
