a glass of Pinot Grigio
‘Do you know her, that woman over there?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘Why is she smiling at you then?’
‘Not me, must be someone …’ I turned, but behind me was a grey wall.
‘You do, don’t you?’ Allison accused.
I shook my head and raised the glass to my lips.
‘She’s the one who came collecting for Help for Heroes. What did you give her?’
‘Why did you just blow a kiss to that man?’ my husband asked.
I smiled in the direction of my action. ‘When I was collecting in Pear Tree Drive, he told me he was a pacifist. When I shook the tin, he told me to clear off. Slammed the door in my face. Let him explain things to his wife.’