.. what?" Mum was immune to my questions and protestations as shestridently led me to yet another chair."My goodness that will not do." My mother tut ...utted as she examined mynails."Mum, could you please take the plastic out of my hair," I pleaded."All in good time but we really must attend to your finger nails whatwould my prospective clients think if they saw them?"I sighed in resignation as I saw that familiar manic gleam in mymother's eyes. I could tell there was no stopping her intentions. ‘Why do you tell people that your wife is dead?’ she asked in an almost-whisper, scanning my face as she let that heavy shoe drop. I didn’t say anything, my surprise at her question only slightly bigger than my anger. No one knew that my wife was alive, and that was the way I wanted it. I hadn’t ever said ‘my wife is dead’ to anyone, and even though I knew that my silent acknowledgement of what people believed was almost as bad as lying, trying to explain the real reason behind my single-parent. More

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