"Grace thought back to the balding man. He seemed to be a business man, albeit in an illegal underworld rather than a traditional industry, rather than a gangster, but Sandy worked with him at the casino and knew him better."Are you sure?" Grace asked tentatively and Sandy nodded."Yeah. I know. The guy smelt of grease and the casino is above a garage."Grace took a deep breath and squeezed her hand that was over Sandy's pendulous bosom. "Well if you are sure, let's go and see the police."Sandy scoffed. "No. They weren't interested. And Neville is well connected with the police. I reckon half of them get bungs from him."Grace kissed the back of Sandy's neck. "Well what are we going to do? Run off somewhere and set up that business?"Sandy stared at the skirting-board and shrugged. "I don't know yet. But I am not going to let him win. If he thinks he can intimidate me then he won't. I will be his casino tonight." Sandy!" Grace barked horrified. "That is a bad idea." No, it is fine. There. Three nights later I lay beneath my heavy down comforter, my reading glasses perched at the end of my nose, and opened the front cover of the well-worn folder. "A Mother's Manifesto - An Essay Into Mother/Son Relations". There was a name of the author beneath, but it had been scratched out long ago.The paper was obviously a photocopy of probably a photocopy, the quality wanting, but legible enough to still read.The date beneath the scratched out name was twelve years before. Though does parenting really change that much that it could be considered out of date or old fashioned?It looked like someone's thesis or term paper. If not for the mysterious way Jude had given it to me or my commitment to our continued friendship, I would not have turned to the next page.I read the opening statement silently, forcing myself to read it to its three page conclusion. It was like seeing a horrific car accident on the highway and slowing down so as to not miss a thing.The red folder dropped to my lap.
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