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"Stop staring, Sam."I figured some toadying might be in order."Yes, ma'am." And quit trying to grease me up." Yes, Mrs. H." That's better."She didn't sit down. She circled the table. I felt her stare in the center of my shoulder blades, and wondered if she was figuring out where to put the knife I was sure she had concealed somewhere on her person. She moved behind Hebe and repeated her examination. She put her fingers on the side of Hebe's neck for a few moments, and repeated the action on the other side. Hebe sat silent, her eyes shut tight. Perhaps she was hoping this was all a dream, even a nightmare, and that soon she'd wake up safe and sound in her bed. For my part I wanted to get it over with. If I was going to die, I wanted it to be a quick death and a clean one.After her silent examination of Hebe's neck Mrs. H stepped over to the sink, filled the kettle and put it on to heat. She returned to the table and sat down opposite us. She said nothing, her silence a negotiating. "I became tired of the debate. My head was aching and I needed a break.The children would soon be home and I knew Sandie would want to interviewthem, if only to reconnoitre the ground. Once again, I felt I was beingused. I felt they were using my home and my Achilles heel, namely thehold they had over my emotions, namely Jenny and Bea. There seemed to beno escape from the machinations of all the care agencies connected toJenny and Bea's case.'Was I becoming paranoid again?' I asked myself and then ruefully Iwondered if I'd ever stopped being paranoid. I used the preparation of the evening meal as an excuse to extricatemyself >from the discussion. Preparing vegetables in the kitchen was myusual form of escape. Somewhere I could go and just relax as I ran thingsthrough my mind. As I prepared dinner, I heard the high-pitchedchatter of four voices dawdling in the lane. My Kitchen window had a goodview of the approaches to the cottage and the sound carried on the stillsummer air. I.
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