“In that case, I would order the porterhouse, well seared outside but bright pink in the middle, with turnips and veg in season, plated up for two, ...nd I would request that the chef join me in a ... yes, join me in a celebration. Could you do that for me, Tracie?”“Of course, April, that’s no problem. A celebration, huh? Champagne and separate orange juice for Pete with your meal, on the house?”“Champagne, most certainly! The celebration? My divorce from Jacques came through today.”Tracie. I froze to the spot when I noticed he had a pair of panties and a bra in his hand. If I wasn't mistaken, they were my Mom's! How the hell did he get them? He'd had no opportunity, surely? Then I heard a shout from the police station. It came from a barred window at the side. Against my better judgement, I had to see. I looked in from outside.First I saw the person who'd shouted. It was one of the cops. He stood, arms folded, barking out orders and chiding somebody. Then I saw Mom.My Mom was. More

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