One evening though, Janie was clearly out their bedroom cupboard when a box fell from the top shelf and burst open as it crashed onto the bedroom floo..., spilling three black and white sketches that were as beautiful as anything Janie had ever seen. The detail of the lines, the use of nothing but charcoal, yet telling a story in vivid colour was awe-inspiring. Janie was no art critic but they felt like truly great works of art. She went downstairs to her husband, sketches in hand and asked him. But they certainly changed my relationship with my wife Suzy.The neighbours' boy, whose name was Greg, had been playing with a ball as he came up the stairs, as kids will, and he had managed to knock the bike I had by the door to keep it out of harms way. The thing had tipped over and bounced down a couple of stairs, making a real racket. By the time I got to the door Greg was lifting it up and I gave him a hand putting it back, upside down, against the wall. He was contrite, and I told him not. More

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