said Tom to Vera, “inviting that bloody woman to the house. You know she’s practically crazy. None of the pupils like her. What put it into your head anyway?” “I was going to do a project on Joseph and his brothers,” said Vera, “and I thought she might be able to give me some ideas, some books.” “But surely you didn’t have to invite her to the house. For dinner. I don’t understand you. You never invited people before. And she’s such an old bag.” Very put down her sewing and said quietly but firmly, “I don’t, as you say, invite many people to the house but I thought, among other things, that she might meet your mother.” Her eyes gazed blandly at him, blue as a doll’s. “My mother!” “Well, why not? She doesn’t meet anybody apart from that Mrs Murphy. She might have something in common with Ruth Donaldson. After all she’s quite religious. In fact …” “In fact what?” “I thought we might invite Mrs Murphy as well.” Tom stared at her in astonishment.
