Occasionally, between mouths full, Russell would lean across to plant a light kiss on her lips or to brush imaginary crumbs away from the sensitive corners of her mouth. Later, while they were in the lounge, decorating her Christmas tree, Russell gently asked her about her husband. For a second her body froze. In the last few hours she'd almost forgotten her past. It was as if, before last night, there'd been nothing. 'But', she supposed to herself, on reflection, 'the past is part of who I am today. I must come to terms with it all and try to lay my ghosts to rest." "His name was Andrew." She told Russell, realising that she hadn't actually thought of Andrew by his given name since he'd passed away - and possibly not even for some long time before that. She wasn't able to say much about Andrew's work either. "He was a financier, in the City." she said, gazing wistfully at the place where one of their holiday snaps had once hung in its frame over the hearth. "He was pretty good with money, we never wanted for anything.
