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Her sister Helen kept me in touch with the family news. Possibly because I was already feeling disoriented, but also because Tio seemed so young and fresh, I was deeply shaken by the news.
I had met Jack when he had come to Europe the previous year.
’; who loved to spin a story in the pub, or to look out to sea over a half of cold lager (even the glass had to be frozen) at a table outside the pub, and to chide his daughters meanwhile. Once Tio’s journey was over, we had been going to take a holiday with Jack and Tio’s mother Eileen and drive up the coast.
I imagined an intriguing, very sophisticated time at a verandered house by the ocean. I’m amazed she can go to work without her colleagues seizing hold of her.
Amongst other things, an essential supply canoe needed replacing on one of the islands. She told me that while she was taking a walk, she had had to politely step aside when the Royal Family, world-famous for its weight, and out for its daily cycle ride, had borne down on her.
She was enjoying the trip as can only someone who loves the sun and welcomes human diversity.
Tio had left me a copy of her itinerary round the islands: I had pinned it up where there was most light in the house at Craster Road - on the top-floor kitchen wall together with a map of the South Pacific, so that I could follow her progress. When I got to work that day and sat at my desk, I burst into tears.
Monica, the young Cambridge graduate who was working with me there at the time, told me not to be so stupid as to try to work.
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Here, you couldn’t do anything else.) The food and drink arrived with great regularity. I wondered how Tio would be, worried a bit about my head, and slept.