When he arrived at the small square across from the church—their usual meeting place—Winnie was nowhere to be seen. Leslie sat down on a bench and waited. He thought of his friend, Winifred (Winnie) Fain, a young woman he’d grown to like and admire over the past months. Their friendship was an odd one, to say the least, for they were not alike in any way. Leslie was quiet and reserved while Winnie was brash, loud, and quite candid. If she thought something, it came right out of her mouth without a moment’s thought of the consequences.
He heard his name being called and turned at the sound. Winnie. Walking toward him briskly.
When he first met her he tried to describe her to Caroline. “She’s kind of nondescript. I suppose in her late twenties, but she could be younger or older. It’s hard
