“Mr Brown? Mr Williams? What are you—?”“Oh, good, you’re here,” Clarissa’s mom said from behind us. She’d come out of the kitchen and ...as wiping her hands with a towel. “Shall we go into the lounge?”“Wherever you think is best,” said Will, “But...” He looked at me. “Are you sure this is a good time?”“What’s this about?” Clarissa asked. “Why are you here?”“It’s about your inheritance,” Christine said. “Why else would they be here today? It is your birthday. You are eighteen now.”“But .... We didn't put a television up there, but we had brought up my old stereo.Our mother had a very lenient drug policy, at least so far as pot and liquor were concerned. Hard for her to be too tyrannical when she herself smoked recreationally and drank socially. We could smoke and drink, but only at home, and we could never tell anyone that she was cool with it. She lived in fear of losing her job. While Karla didn't have much chance to break the first rule, I did, and did so often. The second rule. More

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