''Not even a name?''Oh, well, could you say Octavia Fleming--'Octavia could hear a washing machine spinning, a dogbarking, and then the front door opening, and a voicecalling for Mrs Jackson. And about being checkmated and how there really wasnothing at all she could do about it. 'I'll wash my hair. I'll phone you at the weekend.
''Oh, really? Want to tell me about it?'She hesitated, then said, 'No. Don't, Octavia, just don't. It was very wrong. This was just asshe had imagined it.
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