‘Will you have a look at these photos with me?’ he said. ‘What about Despréaux?’ she asked, his thumb between her teeth. ‘The fire will wa...it.’ She gave back his thumb with a succulent pop, sank to her knees and hugged the arm of his chair. It felt good being that close. She longed to be against him, in his lap perhaps, but did he never tire of that coat? The photos were worn and faded, mostly black and white. Posing children, large families and burly men gazed back at her. But as the pages. ‘Well, saying ‘no’ to the man who rescued you would probably not be the polite choice!’ he told her. She laughed and said: ‘I guess you’re right.’ ‘There are a few other things that I need help with, Carol,’ he said. ‘I’m almost afraid to hear them,’ she quipped. ‘No, very simple,’ he said. ‘I need a new home here, I like big homes. It’s kind of my main vanity. Will you help me with that?’ ‘It’s what I do!’ she said. ‘Price range?’ ‘Oh, top price range,’ he said, ‘I think that the market here. As years passed we didn’t talk as much and our paths took us to different parts of the state. I found myself going through a life changing experience at the same time Sarah was going through a divorce and her own life changing experience. Well my change included moving near her. We put off going out for a while not sure why I’m guessing it’s because we both didn’t quite know where things would go. When I finally saw Sarah my jaw hit the floor she was still stunning and as fucking hot as the day. It was about the 'little ships' that had gone to Dunkirk and plucked the British Army off the beaches. Already this massive defeat was being re-written as an epic. She supposed it was in a way but, like everyone else, she'd have preferred a real victory."Among the last of the gallant 'little ships' to leave," the story read, "was the sloop 'Maid Elizabeth' and her eighteen year old skipper, John Reynolds of Lyme Regis. 'Maid Elizabeth' undertook several trips from the beaches to the waiting.