About the Author

John has been a nurse, a tutor, a lecturer, a manager and a

counsellor. He is married to Betty and between them they have six
children and nine grandchildren. This is Johns first published
book, with a further book of short stories waiting in the wings.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Trevor Robinson who coaxed, cajoled

and challenged me to write something.
I am not sure what this is but it is definitely something.
Thanks Trevor.
Trevor Robinson
1st August 1945 14th November 2014

Copyright John Orr (2015)

The right of John Orr to be identified as author of this work has
been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the
publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this
publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims
for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British
Library.

ISBN (Paperback) 9781784557713

ISBN (Hardback) 9781784557720
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2015)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LB

Printed and bound in Great Britain

Acknowledgments

I wish to thank my wife, Betty, for her encouragement, spell

checking and especially for the many hours spent typing my
stories.

My heart is breaking. The man that I love more than life itself
has just told me that he does not share my feelings.
He has just walked out the door!
I can feel my heart break.
My name is Ann, I am twenty-two years of age. How can I
begin to think of all the empty years to come, without him?
As soon as I saw him I knew he was the ONE.
The differences between us mattered not one jot. He was
dancing with Nana at someones coming home party; six feet
tall, lean without being scrawny, with piercing blue eyes and
grey hair worn long over his ears in a 1960s style.
I simply could not wait, so I decided that it was an excuse
for me to dance so I did.
His eyes seemed to pour into my soul as I felt weak at the
knees.
My dance, I think, I announced cheekily.
He responded in olde world fashion and I was gliding
round the floor in his arms.
If I danced a little too closely, he did not seem to notice.
I was carried in a cloud of ecstasy.