Mrs Tinge was not a dreamer, she knew what she wanted and she got what she wanted, even when it took months or years.
Mrs Pearson was not stupid, she knew what Mrs Tinge wanted, she wanted Mrs Pearson's body and all of it.
Mrs Tinge had got Mrs Pearson's body and every last bit of it, this made Mrs Tinge happy. Mrs Pearson knew that, it made her happy too, but there was something else.
“There is something I want to tell you.”
Mrs Tinge looked expectantly at Mrs Pearson.
“I want to marry you.”
Mrs Tinge realised that she had just been hit with a great Atlantic wave. She had never been loved, certainly not by her mother, not no never. Mrs Tinge thought that love was a pretence, a word used only in soap operas on the TV. But she had just been hit by a huge Atlantic wave, this was too much for her, she cried.
If Mrs Pearson had had a thousand legs and arms she would have wrapped them all around Mrs Tinge; she used the four she had, she held Mrs Tinge very tight. Mrs Pearson said nothing, Mrs Tinge cried.