"Mr Fisher, I need your help!" she admitted."Where's the rest of my money?" I asked."You too will go to prison," she warned, "The immigration want to ...ee us," Fine, where?" I asked."They send to the address, they find we are not there," she babbled."So where do they want to see us?" I enquired."My house, will you come, bring things so they think you live here please?" she asked."Sure my pleasure!" I agreed, "Just email me the address," we exchanged email addresses and arranged to meet next day. And that was as good an illustration as any about why Mike didn't worry too much about having Tiffany come home from school, and watch Henry. There was no telling her to do her homework; she'd have it done. Tiffany was very sober, responsible, and competent for a nine-year-old, and somehow, Mike wondered how they'd come up with raising such a child. Henry was more like you expected for a six-year-old, a typical pain in the butt, but Tiffany could keep him under control when Mike and Kirsten. More

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