We didn’t know each others names. We’d met on and off at the Cut, so I knew her in that way when I saw her on her ipad hocking into free wifi at the entrance to my Halesworth home.
Come up for a glass of wine, I invited, she accepted.
We rambled. I recognised the voice, she was from Hornesy, that east yorkshire lilt.
In St Ives, the light is less forgiving. You have to pluck out the chin hairs. In Suffolk you can get away with them.

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