"Are you the witches?"Brenda winced. "We are NOT witches! I really, really wish people would stop calling us that!" She took a deep breath. "Now, come...into the kitchen. I just made some tea ... or there's some coffee left, if you prefer."I followed them into the cooking area. I nodded in approval. It was a well set-up kitchen. One of them obviously knew how to cook. They put the baby into a highchair and put a fistful of Cheerios in front of her, which she started picking up in her pudgy. I sat through the part when I phoned and Guy made fun of me, thinking I couldn't hear. There wasn't any doubt that this was not their first time. How long had it been going on? I listened to another few minutes and was not much wiser. It did upset me. I let myself cry some. That was no bad thing, apart from being painful, pitiful even; if I looked strained and a little red-eyed when Ellen got home that would tell her more than words.Every now and then I checked Find-my-iPhone to track Ellen's. More

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