The Suitcase: Part Three
Frances Stonor Saunders, 10 September 2020
“... had taken had been torpedoed and sunk. I remember that as my father told me this in the sitting room of his Wiltshire home, sunlight was filtering in through a confusion of leaves, furry and prickly to touch, on his now dead mother’s scented geranium, and there were dust motes dancing in the space between us. Faced with my urgent question – ‘Did your ... ”