The visitor
BARRY COLE
Canseand stayed the night. 'How have things been?'
I asked, shuffling pillows, turning coats To coverlets, altering the shape Of the room to fit the part she'd play.
'Not too had,,' she said. 'Painting castles In Ayr.' While I made coffee she looked Among my books, asked how I had been.
'Fair,' I said, my pale face darkenini As she began to read 'A History Of the European Union.'
'Sometimes, though, I've not been good at all.'
`Oh?' she said, looking up from page three. 'How sad. Particularly so when I've not been too bad at all.'
I added brandy to my coffee.
'No,' I said, to show how I had changed. 'Of course not.' The first dozen pages, I remembered, dealt with the last war.
'Still,' she said, 'it no longer matters
Now, does it? I mean, we've all changed,' she Added, as I went upstairs to bed.