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He asked if everything was going well for me. I stood up, put my arms around him, told him that I was doing well and that I thank him for caring for me. He hugged me back, not the way I see him hug Brindy or Carlita. As a friend, maybe. Or a daughter.Every night I go to sleep in my own room. They go to sleep in the big bedroom. I know they do as married people, as adults, do. I’m fourteen, or eighteen if you look at my papers. I feel fourteen, though. Knowing that they have each other, though, I feel lonely. Maybe envious.This is a family. They say I am part of this family.It is springtime in Louisiana. The weather changes rapidly. On this night I went to sleep as normal. I woke when lightning lit up my room. The thunder and the lightning are scary and I am in a room being scared and alone and I have family. I do not have to be scared.I walk up the hall to their door. The house is dimly lit. Very quietly I open the door. There is that very big bed with three people in it.Now there are. While the inspector scutinised the ticket, Maurice Kershaw took the opportunity to sneak a good look at her. She was tall, slim and had a beautiful dark skin tone - almost certainly Italian he guessed. Her long slender legs were clad by neatly-pressed black slacks, she wore a thin, tight-fitting white silk blouse, beneath which a black bra was clearly visible and a jauntily-angled dark blue peaked cap bearing the French railway's insignia. Her scarlet lipstick exactly matched her nail varnish. The railway company's identification badge above her left breast stated: 'Bella.'Just then, a huge African lady came bowling along the corridor on her way from the dining car. Almost involuntarily, the ticket inspector moved forward to allow the passenger to pass and, in doing so, stepped into Maurice Kershaw's room. At the same moment, the train entered a long curved section of track, causing the compartment's door to swing shut behind her with a resounding clunk."Oooops!" Bella looked.
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