started to rain  our o ter of ttle jig to drive ts, and t inside.

    e sat in a pear and I stared up at ted ceiling until I made myself dizzy.

    ‘tell me about  it?“

    ‘I knoold me,“ ell you t. And of course tance.“

    ‘You ance?“

    ‘Yes. It’s not  an inance, but all t, I could s to you later.“

    ‘t would be nice.“

    ‘Yes… Because I  too adjacent to breakfast for cake, isn’t it?“ It ant grimace t turned into a gleam  , Invite Margaret back for elevenses. Cake and coffee,  sound? You could do ance at time.  little to see.“

    I accepted tation.

    Aurelius took  and began to polisly h a handkerchief.

    ‘ell no old to me. Mrs. Love, and ory.“

    tled into passive neutrality, a sign t, in torytellers, o make ory itself. And ted, and from   t of  was Mrs. Love I ory.

    ory, and Aurelius’s, and also, perhaps, Emmeline’s.

    tc nigorm . In treetops tling, and it  to break tting in t  turning t a s t I  of fire t I’d broug afternoon, and I’d only just put anot cold, not at all, but I t to myself,  a nig some poor soul caugdoors a  poor soul as made me shiver.

    Everyt indoors, only ten, and tting needles, and my sig o remembering, and t’s a bad  for a y. I’d got a ent? Not I. So t sig coming. After a time I got up to fetcry, nice and mature, fed  e turned over. Do you kno sock twice!

    No bot really botter, not slapdaser Kitty used to be, nor  near t mistake twice in my life.

    t time I turned a oo often ting by an open   tell you e dresses and  of nonsense like t. And all of a sudden I looked do I’d turned t , a  and t loud. It didn’t matter. Easy enougo undo it and put it right.

    I’d already dra ’s up , all of a e, and topped dead te s’s  a trouble for  for me. S s even say my name. S s.

    t.  er some grouse.  ougo ook frig to tile first and oo y.  caugile. aken ime. steps coming after t t need to spell it out, do I? You can guess w happened.

    I undid my knitting. All ttle knots t you make one after moto knit a sock, I undid t’s easy. take t, a little tug and t fall apart. One after anotra  kept going. t, t  to unravel, only a pile of crinkled blue wool in my lap.

    It doesn’t take long to knit a sock and it takes a lot less to undo it.

    I expect I o a ball to make somet I don’t remember t.

    time I turned a o get old. Kitty and me ting by toget ting so mucter, I t. Saking an interest in t  ting—a nice pair of bed socks it ty, softest lambs’ o go   it, turned t wice.”

    I . “ell, I’m blowed,” I said.

    S ting, s be surprised. Surning ting to turn at all. More tted a sock for  a leg and a toe. e laug s me, s  like me to be so absentminded.

    ‘ell,“ I said, ”I ake before. Only t I’ve just told you. All about my young man. And arted to put it rigakes a bit of concentration, and t  s alking about my loss all t by comparison.

    It oo dark to finisoe properly, so I put it aside and looked up. “Kitty?” I said. “Kitty?” t t be asleep. But s.

    So be back ime I’d been peering at t bed sock in ttering aory, so him.

    So it bot nigco find t I’d knitted a second  and lost my young man. t my sister. Noime. I  to lose. there was only me now.

    I looked at t  for me.

    Per didn’t matter, I told myself. o miss me? No one  er all, at least I’d  like my young man. And also I remembered tty’s face, t  be so bad, I t.

    I set to unraveling tra   of t, you mig  to be found . “Silly old ting in ? Surned   t. So I undid it. And as I o go, in my mind.

    I don’t kno. But eventually a noise found its o my ear. From out-of-doors. A cry, like some lost animal. I s, not expecting anyto come no first I paid no notice. But I  again. It seemed to be calling me. For uck out  per , lost its moto meet my maker, ttle cat, s  fur, kept distracting me. And I t, Just because I’m dying, t’s no reason to deny one of God’s creatures a bit of o eat. And I migell you, I didn’t mind t of ure by me rig t moment. So I  to the door.

    And here?

    tucked in t of tten. Poor little mite. Cold and  and  doe you saopped crying.

    I didn’t linger outdoors. You ed feeding and some dry t stop long in t a quick look. Not all. Just tling trees at to toward Angelfield?

    I clutco me, came inside and closed the door.

    ted to me. time, and it  came to t taug to go reading too muco coincidences. I ime to be t deater t, anyway.

    I o t.

    And we lived er.

    Aurelius sion;  imes as a boy, repeated inside himself for decades as a man.

    ory emplating tar. Outside tinued to fall, unill as a statue by my side, yet s, I suspected,  quiet.

    ts of t  I said not ed for o return to t in ime. o me.

    ‘t’s not my story, is it? I mean, I’m in it, t’s obvious, but it’s not my story. It belongs to Mrs. Love. ted to marry; er Kitty; ting.  is ory. And t o an end, I arrive and give tory a neart.

    ‘But t doesn’t make it my story, does it? Because before s… before—“

    ed, breature to cut off ence and start again:

    ‘Because for someone to find a baby like t, just find  in t means t before t to y—“

    Anotic erasing gesture of t t  o say:

    ‘Because if Mrs. Love found me, it can only mean t before t  have—“

    t  verb.

    o despair. ated gesture, ed in an attitude t suggested a plea or a prayer.

    times ely t you can, as them like a book. I read Aurelius.

    Do not abandon me.

    touco atue returned to life.

    ‘t ing for to stop,“ I  for tos can . e may as well go.“

    ‘Yes,“ . ”e may as well.“