she described the slap of the water on the side of the clinker fishing boat , the hiss and heave of the sea , the only smell and texture of mackered .
" the thing i remember most is the rain . sometimes it was hard and slanted in from the west . at others , it was as soft as a caress and seeped into your clothing . however carefully we put away the mackered lines at home , they were always knotted when we got them out of the the cupboard the next year .nathan was impatient and demanded that we buy new ones .but i said no and i learned the routines . i planned we had a good meal on the first night , and i bought a heater to ensure we weren't cold . by day two , he seem always to breathe easier and he slept differently . more quietly . when he picked up the book i'd chosen for him . i knew the best part of the holiday was beginning . it was a sort or healing from the frazzle of the year . i don't think we would have survived so long without cornwall ."
"i never let him go to cornwall ." i said ." what was the point ? it was your torritory . i thought it would be good for him to kook at different things . i thought a little greek or italian sun would work magic , but he never liked the heat . you knew that . and the boys were too young . the heat made them fretful and difficult to marrage ."
but i was tired too , always so tired ." rose said ." until the children were older . i didn't realize , and it wasn't a question of accepting the tiredness , i just thougfht that was the way things were intil i began to feel better . really better . by then , it was too late and nathan had looked elsewhere .
when the doctor arrrived , he examined nathan ." it looks very much if it was a heart attack ." he told us . writting notes and organizing the paper work .
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