There stood two police officers. “Sam Wilson?” the officer said. “Yes,” Sam replied. “Are you Chris Wilson?” “Yes,” I said. “Boys, I...��m afraid we have some bad news for you,” the taller officer said. “We regret to inform you that your parents were killed in a car accident this evening.” “What?” I cried. “I’m sorry,” he said and they turned to leave. Sam nodded his thank you and closed the door. We stared at each other for a long moment. Then it happened. I lost it. “No!” I shouted. “No! It can’t. Much taller than me. God, I hope I’m not going to make a fool of myself. Wonder what colour hair is under that greasetop cap?’ As soon as we’d finished, we removed our costumes and stowed them in the service car and trooped out. The lead steward turned off the carriage shed lights and locked the door behind us. I went straight to the pub with the others, and we all ordered food. It was a jolly party round the table and the conversation ranged widely over the day’s amusements. Suddenly my. More

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