And it was the only part of that morning I had not planned.
Everything else — the tickets, the pillar, the line about the daughters — I had worked out over three weeks.
That sentence came out of me in a terminal with a baby on my chest and it was for me.
And Dinah Lowther was standing eighteen inches to my left holding her granddaughter when I said it.
And she did not react at all, which at the time I took for agreement.
What the picture was for.
Nothing, in the end.
It is in a folder on my phone and I have opened it about nine times in fifteen months.
It never went to a solicitor, because he did not contest anything. It never went to anybody at Kettleby, because I did not have to; his mother was there.
I took a photograph of my husband kissing a woman for a purpose that I had not named to myself, and then I never needed it, and I still have it.
