Chapter 34
THUMPER SAT ALONE at the dinner table on Friday evening, hunched over his plate, contemplating the letter from Shelagh’s barrister. He absently pushed around a piece of salmon, topped with Natasha’s scrumptious dill sauce, thinking more about Shelagh than about his devoted housekeeper’s lovingly prepared food. Focused on the implications of the letter, he failed to notice the sound of her approach.
“Vhat is this?” she demanded, seeming to materialize at his side. “Food is not good? Something is wrong vith salmon? Sauce is bad? And potatoes. You are not even touching potatoes!”
He snapped into an erect posture and speared a large piece of pink, perfectly cooked fish. “No, no, everything is wonderful. I was just caught up in my thoughts.” He began to shovel food into his mouth,
