Breakfast with Ann

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I was still annoyed at having to drive the 3 hours to Ann’s house in the midst of summer, and swore I would make my wife pay for making me run this long distance errand to her mother’s. Why she couldn’t have sent the 20 odd boxes of Ann’s childhood doll collection by post was beyond me.

Anyway, I had left home early to avoid the mid summer heat, and noticed it was only just on 7.30 am when I pulled into the small town where Ann now lived. Her husband Jack had died 11 years

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