“ Try not to worry, for time is a great healer.' Such words were futile. ”
Her love for him was almost like a pain in itself.
~ Catherine Cookson
And, like the prodigal son, he had returned broken in body and also in mind to the house where he had been born, and he and his child had been welcomed with open arms.
Who wanted to live to a hundred and one? Who wanted to go on living at all at times?
The Girl was gone, buried in the past. She never wanted to hear that name again. She was a woman for better for worse. Whatever the future might bring she could face it as a woman, Ned Ridley's woman.
