Perhaps I could shatter his innocence just a bit.“Mother left me a letter – I found it in an old trunk not many years ago.”Auden was nodding.“...he told of a baby, of a family with an older child that took that baby.”Auden was still nodding, a knowing nod, as if what I was sharing wasn’t ... wasn’t shameful, wasn’t something that needed to be hidden, wasn’t something that clung to you, like filth from a cesspool, that somehow contaminated you forever. Why was he looking that way?“Yes,” he. So, a general blackout and nothing to worry about. We walked back into the house and found some candles. It was winter, though, and the heating was electrical, so the temperature was dropping fast.We sat back on the settee.“We’ll have to huddle together for warmth,” Joan said with a giggle. “Remember when we all used to sit there on the beach when it was windy and we’d all sit close and the men would make a little fire? And your Dad would always make that joke about rubbing two boy scouts. More

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