Judging by the dust, the half-empty paint tins, wallpaper and solvents lying around, no-one ever tidied up around here. I securely tied up the long ro...e I had brought with me and doused it in paint thinners. I opened the paint tins, spreading paint and thinners over all the old furniture. I crept down the stairs in my socks. There was a guard: Big Tone himself, at the main residence door. Mostly his attention was directed downstairs, the running commentary from the European football match. Very proud. Sometimes I wish Mom would see me and be proud. Mizz Helen and Mister Charlie are proud of me. I'm proud of me. Dan's proud of me. I just wish Mom...It might be silly. After all, Mom just signed papers making Mizz Helen my guardian, gave me a hug, and left for Vegas with one of a long series of guys. It was months before I heard a peep from her. That's not a lot of 'motherly instinct' showing, there, and I really shouldn't get my hopes up. Still, Dan didn't know, but I did write Mom. More

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