Adelle and I would fall into each other every so often in the bathrooms of bars, but not so much that it could be called anything besides drunken misc...ief between friends. We would sit in the back seat and hold hands while the guys talked up front.We knew everything there was to know about each other and we could always talk. We loved each other. We joked that we would be old ladies together after the men had passed on, that my daughter would always wonder about Mom and 'Aunt' Adelle living. "I think I owe you a fag," she said, sitting down. I told her not to worry, offered her another of mine. Had she been crying? Her cheeks looked shiny, eyes a bit pink. Ever the discrete one, I asked her if she was enjoying the 'team building and goal setting'."I could live without, but - and I quote - this is work, not a jolly. Personally, I'd prefer a pint. Or ten." There was an edge to her voice I recognised. The Professional Being Professional Despite It All. Do Not Cross Line. You Do Not. More

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