Supper was spaghetti and Italian sausage that night. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. He had tossed an honoured name into the mire; he required no prison bars to accentuate this misery. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. I saw someone in there whom I have always hoped that I should never meet again. In the chapel she sang with an open-lunged gusto that silenced Ann Veronica altogether, and in the exercising-yard slouched round with carelessly dispersed feet.
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