Stayed in.” “On a Friday night?” said Tina. “That’s no fun. I could do that. Shit, I did do that.” “Not the way I did, I’ll bet,” ...aid Wren. She was sitting on Tina’s kitchen counter. The women were eating strawberries and smoking Wren’s Camel Filters, blowing the smoke in the general direction of the range hood, the fan on low. Tina’s kids, Jack Jr. and Jewel, were downstairs in the family room watching “Frozen” for the second hundredth time. “Ah, so that’s the way it is,” said Tina. “Don’t. She said, “What a bloody prude, she needs to get real, tits are for having fun with as well as being functional aren’t they?” I was a bit taken aback, but it was more of a statement, which didn’t need an answer. What was interesting however, was that there was a huddle of girls chatting with Mrs. P in the car park afterwards. By their friendly demeanour I guessed that they were trying to get a bit more information.“She drove away in her Porsche and I never saw her again at the clinic, which was. More

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