And that was true whether they were young, like Lottie, or really old, like his mum. Pam started visiting him in his room more often. At first, rather...hesitantly, and making no comment about the music that was the constant wallpaper of his life. Chris knew that the records he played were about the least like house music there was and he somehow felt strangely embarrassed about this. Perhaps he ought to buy some CDs of the stuff chicks liked. Bon Jovi, perhaps. Or maybe even something that. I wonder about her. I mean she runs all the time. Is she a marathon runner? She’s got the body and pace for it. Hell half the time when I’m dropping into a walking step, to let burning muscles ease up, she’s still going for another ten miles. As we pass the long row of mailboxes and take the little turn I can already feel my calves starting to burn. There is a rise in grade here. If I was in my car I would just hit the gas and up it I would go… no strain… no pain… no effort. Maybe that’s what. More

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