He had arrived on Margaret's radar because occasionally Joycechecked John's mobile just in case anyone was snooping around. Of coursehis father was ta...en care of now, nicely locked away, bound and gaggedand immersed in his world of taffeta and nylons. No-one else seemed tocare about John's whereabouts except an old schoolmate called Jason whosepersistence was a worry to the women at Taffeta Torment.They had decided on a plan and since Joyce was far too obsessed withgrooming John, Margaret was. And you, old man, I hate you for doing what I can’t. I want to stop. Every day I want it to end, but there’s nothing for me out there. My family doesn’t want me. But I want to go home. I really do.’ He stood there, waiting for someone to respond. Nothing came. The steps back to his seat were hard. He thought to himself that if nobody said a word, he would move to another city. Start over. But it wasn’t to be. Lene’s voice halted him. ‘It’s not that easy, Ian. Say those words to us again in six. More

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