One of the men turned to her and spat at her. He had a long salt and pepper beard with hair close cropped to his head and one of those funny skull ca...s. He wasn't wearing proper clothes either. He had on those robes that they were. It was a long one piece affair that went down to his ankles and fit tight across his gross belly."Don't spit at me you disgusting Jew!" She said standing up and facing him, her breasts still bared. She knew he was Muslim but she wanted to get him really. What, seven-thirty?Chrissie was confused. After meeting Tom and asking him to support her at the funeral, she'd returned to Felixstowe Ferry in the car borrowed from Jessica. She, too thought deeply about her first love; the care and love he'd shown, the joy they'd shared. But she knew she'd neglected him. She'd not contacted him for nearly eight years, their lives so different, never meeting. She didn't deserve him. The almost two years she'd spent as a prostitute; she was damaged goods. Tom. More

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