Only Mummy and I inhabit the Oliphant world. His mother was still talking.
Denise was eleven when Raymond came alonga wee surprise and a blessing, so he was.
She looked at him with so much love that I had to turn away.
At least I know what love looks like, I told myself. That’s something.
No one had ever looked at me like that, but I’d be able to recognize it if they ever did.
“Here, son, get the album out. I’ll show Eleanor those photos of that first holiday in Alicante,
the summer before you started school. He got stuck in a revolving door at the airport,”
she said, sotto voce, leaning toward me confidentially.
I laughed out loud at the look of utter horror on Raymond’s face.
“Mum, Eleanor doesn’t want to be bored to death looking at our old photos,” he said,
blushing in a way that I supposed some people might consider charming.
I thought for a moment about insisting that I’d love to see them, but he looked so miserable that I couldn’t do it.
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