“Today is your day!” said Mrs. Gilshenan in her flat, bronchitic voice; and then she stopped and smiled, her small, neat, brown dentures showing; she was obviously waiting for her words to take effect, obviously waiting for one of them to answer. Angela, her back turned to them both, felt that this was something best left to Brian, so she carried on washing the breakfast dishes, biting her lip and dissatisfying herself with the thought that her mother’s accent was even more Liverpudlian in the morning than at any other time of the day. It really must be catarrh, she thought.
“Today is our day?” said Brian at last, bewilderment salting his voice, bringing out his usual morning mood.
Already have an account? Log in
Join KR for even more to read.