‘What’s this?’ Glen asked, breaking my reverie. ‘Getting sentimental already?’ ‘I think I’m experiencing separation anxiety.’ ‘But d...n’t you give your paintings away all the time?’ he asked gently. All the time? No not all the time. Sometimes. I can’t afford to be giving paintings away left and right but I know what he meant. ‘Yes, but I always know where they are going to end up! That sounds silly, I know.’ ‘No. It’s not silly. But cheer up honey. You’re a working artist. You’re a success!. To be honest I think I got the old swooning looks from her. It struck me that Dee’s father didn’t like me. This is not an uncommon attitude for a father to take, after all, he was young once and knew how most young guys’ minds worked. Standard fatherly protective behaviour, if you ask me. When Dee entered the room, my jaw dropped. Remember I’d known Dee since she was a little kid. The day before I was struck by her pleasant face and nice figure. But there was no way that I was prepared for the. More

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