“What is this for?” I heard Erica say loudly. There was some whispered explanation and an “oooh. Really? Does she do that?” I didn’t know wh...t ‘it’ was, nor did I want to. I remembered staying with my granny (my other granny) and seeing her voluminous underclothes hanging up to dry; acres of cotton, reinforced gussets and some kind of bust protector – I wouldn’t call it a bra since it was big enough to catch the whole North Sea cod stocks in it. I had no desire to understand what the. The Stranger was about my father's age, but trim and fit. His black hair was streaked with grey. He was expensively and tastefully dressed. Anyone could tell he was important, although he had not told us anything about himself. He spoke with a trace of a foreign accent I could not identify. He had a high forehead, and intelligent dark blue eyes that liked what they saw when they looked at my bride.My bride liked the way the Stranger looked at her. I was sure of my wife's love. If he excited. More

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