'A hearse! A hearse! My kingdom for a hearse!' I bellow, stumbling dramatically around the kitchen in my best King Richard.
'My mother's death isn't funny!' screams Jenny and disolves into floods of tears. Neither is trying to find an unbooked funeral director in the middle of an arctic January but at least I'm trying to remain cheerful. Not even Michael is laughing, and Michael finds bubbles amusing, so I resort to a few consoling cliches; 'she's gone to a better place' (probably true), 'life goes on' (unfortunately true), and 'the inheritance should pay for a new hall carpet' (hopefully true). Dark moods and black clouds prevail but my personal silver lining arrives with a Glenlivet label glued to the front.

Peace Review Text

A Reader Review

A Reader Review