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"No idea," her mother replied shortly, paying no attention to it. All she wanted to do was go home and rest after a very busy and unsettling day.
The laughter fluttered after her car like a victory pennant, drifting past the house where Mrs Lord lay in blissful congress with her son, Gordon. It passed unheeded by the house where Mrs Woolmers family spent the night, illicitly exploring the depths of depravity with each other, and it paused by the church where the priest knelt in solemn prayer, asking forgiveness for his moment of weakness with Mrs Barton.
Her eidetic memory had all their numbers neatly arranged for instant recall, but first she used her car phone to tell her best friend, Carla, all the dirty details as she drove home. She thought everyone had earned a little party for their efforts - especially the priest…they had special plans for him.
