" Her name was Anna," she said as I looked at a picture of a stunningly beautiful young girl in what passed for a skimpy bikini in the seventies."She's nice mummy." I said. "Who is she?" She's the wife of an American senator," she had a wistful expression on her face."But then, she was my soul mate, my lover, my bed mate, she was my life Tabatha and I loved her with all my heart."I was stunned, this was my mother talking, my strait laced mother, the one who was the rock in my parent's marriage, the dutiful little wife who served the drinks at daddy's cocktail parties, the one who organises the coffee mornings for charity.Mummy had never been away from daddy for longer than a week when she went to the States to see an old school friend last year.Then it dawned on me."You went to America last year mummy." Yes." Without daddy." Yes." Oh mummy, why didn't you tell me?"I hugged her tightly, "Do you still love her?" Probably, yes I think I do darling." How can you live with it though mummy,. Her right shoulder itched, as it often did when she awoke, and reflexively, she lifted the stump of her left arm in a futile attempt to scratch it. To her utter shock, the 'stump' actually had an elbow, and a forearm, and had a hand attached. And they all worked, as the fingers scratched at an itch she'd had ever since the accident.Afraid to move, lest she awaken from this dream, or cause it to turn into a nightmare, she lay still, heart racing and chest heaving, until a scream from outside the room broke the silence. Before she could think, she was on her feet and moving towards the door, searching for the source of that scream, desperate to help, and to perhaps earn this wonderful reward.She was a bit unsteady on her feet, as if she'd had to relearn to walk. Considering it was the first time in more than a year she'd felt anything below her waist, and that she was walking on legs that had mysteriously regrown just as her left arm had, that wasn't surprising. She reached the archway.
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