She sat down heavily in the hard wooden chair in the visiting room.
She sat down heavily in the hard wooden chair in the visiting room.‘Oh, me bunions are killing me, Charlotte. You don’t know what that journey does for me, first to get the bus to the station, train to York. I know it’s not that far from Garside, but it takes hours, stopping at every bleedin’ cow in the field, every sheep in the fold, hours it took, And then the walk from the station to catch the bus out here and the walk up to the gate and all the checks and searches, I tell you, I’m done, plumb worn out and I’ve got to do it all again to get back home. Life’s a trial, I can tell you.’
‘Oh, me bunions are killing me, Charlotte. You don’t know what that journey does for me, first to get the bus to the station, train t
