Not the buses lights , mine. I had fallen asl**p on her shoulder, and I woke up with a start. The movement of the bus was making me nauseous, the cold...sweats kicked in, and I realised I was going to have to get off and NOW! I got off the bus and got rid of the evenings refreshments , while hanging on to a low wall. And Jane got off, with me and held my hand, and mopped my brow and took me home and looked after me. Er…. No. Not exactly. She stayed on the bus, forgot about us, and went off. Yet, if an angel visited me, would I believe anything other than what the angel told me? Oh, Christine, what am I to think of all this? Angel or father? Wife or phantom? Who is the woman upstairs waiting?"As he always did in times of great emotional distress, he felt a burning need to speak with his mother, the one person, until he met Christine, from whom he ever felt unconditional love and trust. His feet led him to his music room as tears blinded his eyes too thoroughly to see the way. He. More

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