Tara Prutton sobbed, her blonde hair falling over her hands and she stared down on the court and then spun around to face her son's girlfriend."This, ...his your fault," she told her, getting up and pushing her hands into the face of the teenage girl. "Ya did this."Emma shook her head. "No," she cried and stepped backwards to avoid the flailing arms of the irate mother. "No I didn't."Tara climbed up onto the chair and swung her arm at Emma who was backing away from the irate mother. "You fucking. “S’okay. Wherever you are right now, pretty sure I been there at some point too.”It was no consolation but he turned his palm up and their fingers locked. The last and only time she ever touched him was over twenty-five years ago when she punched him. He probably didn’t remember that little girl. Had probably forgotten her the way junkies forget promises. It was the most consolation she’d had since she got there so she gripped it like she was gripping his massive hand.“Whose boat?” he asked.“My. More

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