”“You talking to me, or him?” I asked with a wicked grin.“That’s for me to know and you to find out – all in good time!”We kissed again,...nibbling at each other.“‘Good night sweet prince!’ “ she quoted.“Hey!” I complained. “You want me dead already?”She looked surprised then realised.“Oh hell!” she said. “I see what you mean. Hamlet had just taken poison hadn’t he? How about this instead?“‘Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow!’ “ she said gazing into my eyes, her hand. That was a long time ago and the fiddles he made then are still the best ones to knock out a tune on.Jane lived, I discovered, in the next village, and over the course of the next few years we met on a number of occasions at different events, as well as returning to buy the odd plant. And then we had to move.I always say that there are four classes of people in England. First are those who own their own houses. They are wooed by credit companies, banks and the like, candidates in elections and. More

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