“The sky was an unrelenting gray, like layers of sodden flannel, and the rain just kept on pouring and pouring until I thought it would never end, all year; that Massachusetts would never be dry again. The three of us went in my car - myself, Edward, and Forrest Brough. Jimmy Carlsen had wanted to come, but at the last moment his mother had insisted that he go over to Cambridge for Sunday lunch to meet his cousins from Arizona. ‘Jimmy’s mother is one of those ladies who won’t take no for an ...answer,’ explained Forrest, as we drove through the rain. ‘Show me a mother who will,’ replied Edward; and I thought, with sadness and regret, of Constance Bedford. Walter had called me this morning and told me that she was still in intensive care, and that the doctors at Granite-head Clinic were extremely reticent about her chances of survival. ‘Overwhelming psychological and physiological trauma,’ they had diagnosed. So far, I hadn’t yet told Edward or Forrest about the grisly events of the previous night.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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