I put on my black skirt and my white shirt and mascara and tights and heels, and I went to work. I said, “Welcome to Throckton,” and I smiled and I chatted a little bit, and I was all right. Ian hovered for the morning, and Emily took me to lunch, which I’m sure wasn’t as casual an arrangement as it seemed, but I’m getting to be graceful when people try to help me, because God knows I’m not good at life without you, and I need all the help I can get. It’s funny to see people arriving and exclaiming over how pretty this place is, something I’d forgotten. I just see the bits I don’t like: the sky too close, the streets too narrow, the people knowing exactly who I am and where I fit into the Great Scheme of Throckton. But today, walking home, I remembered how I felt during my first spring here, and I was happy. I remembered my amazement at how green everything is, all the time, not just during spring and autumn, like it is back home. When I left, walking back through town, I think I saw Kate Micklethwaite.
What do You think about The Secrets We Keep (2015)?
