As I threw the soaking mass of brown tissue into the trash, I glanced back through the blind. Smitha was now on the phone, but she gave me a ‘Dear m..., how disappointing’ look, shaking her head slowly at me, rolling her eyes and fighting back a smile.I took my coffee back over to my desk and sat Down. “Slick, real slick…” I thought to myself. I was just about to start a spreadsheet task I had to do, when my extension rang. I picked it up and leaned back in my chair.”Hello?””Hi Chris, Smitha. "This is nice," he says, gruffly, conversationally."Wait there, I'll see if Kevin's in," I pantomime, leaving my purse andkeys on the table and going upstairs for a fruitless search. It seemsunbelievable that he doesn't recognise me, that he can't see throughthe mask, the clothes, to his son. I walk from Ellen's bedroom to theguest room, where I haven't slept in a week. An hour, maybe an hour anda half would do it -- I could get all this off and give him what hewants: a man to man talk. That's. More

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