I stopped by the police station to see him, but they said he retired a few months back. I asked, but they wouldn't give me his number, so I left my number with them and they said they would get it to him. Well, about fifteen minutes ago he called me and gave me your number. Hope you're not mad about that."I listened to what he said, and something didn't seem just right. "Well, no I aint mad, but with all the trouble you went through to get in touch with me I am sure it wasn't just to say hello. So, what's up?" Yeah, it's more than that, but I really don't want to talk on the phone about it. Can you meet me? It's really important. Say in about an hour or so?"I looked at the clock on my desk and since it was still sort of early and I was home alone with nothing else to do, I thought what the hell. "Yeah, I can meet you. Where do you want to meet?" Can you come to my house?" Ah, yeah I guess. Give me the address, and directions." Well, first off, I live just across the state line in a. Somewhere, off in the far distance, church bells sounded. "You bastard," Gemma said, fighting back tears. "How could you?" Without speaking, Michael opened the car door and stepped out. A cool breeze blew a few stray strands of hair across his face. He sat against the bonnet of the car and waited, trying to look calmer than he felt. Eventually he heard the other door open and close. Gemma appeared in front of him and stood, arms crossed and hips cocked. "OK," he said, pouting. "You win. Now what?" Michael thought for a moment. "Let's go down to the water." Gemma nodded, a look of impatience on his face. "You'd better not have brought a picnic lunch, though." He turned and started down the slope. Involuntarily, Michael paused for a moment. The picture came into his mind of Gemma as she had been when they had first come here in the early days of their courtship. He could see her hips swaying under the thin primrose-coloured cotton of her summer dress, her long.
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