No Strings Attached: Quorn

"I know that," said the woman crossly, "I don't want to live here again. Besides, we couldn't afford it."

"So why did you want to come here?"

"I told you. I had this feeling that I should come and have one last look, before we go. Once we get to America, we may never have another chance to see the place. Oh the memories!"

The man sighed, impatiently.

The quorn risked being seen and ran across to the nearest tree. Its trunk was black, and shiny with water. He felt the rain splashing against him, cold and wet. It soaked through his thin fur and began to spread into his body. But from this vantage point he could see the people's faces.

The man had a kind, intelligent face, with eyes that twinkled with an inner warmth. He was in love. He loved the woman. The quorn knew what love was, because he loved Sue-Marie, though she never suspected it for a moment.

When the woman turned her head the quorn nearly cried out. He knew who she was! The hair was not as blond, and the cheeks were thinner, but the eyes were still blue. It was her!

"This is where the kitchen was," she was saying, "And this was the door to the pantry. I used to sneak in there and pinch sugar. I think Mum knew about it, but she never said anything. And over here was the bottom of the stairs . . . and the living-room. There was a big couch along this side, and a glass cabinet, and Dad's collection of swords on the wall."

The quorn watched as Sue-Marie picked her way through the weeds and bricks that used to be her home. She balanced on the concrete foundations and pointed at things as she talked, and the man waited patiently as the rain fell on everything.

The quorn slipped round the tree and crouched down. His legs were heavy with water now, and his head hung crookedly to one side. He could not hold it up, it was so full of water. If he did not reach some shelter soon, he would fall over and lie in the grass while the weather pulled him apart.

"Ahh!" said Sue-Marie, "It all comes back to me now. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to remember. It makes me feel happy, but also very sad."

The quorn staggered across an open patch of ground and