“He cups the back of my neck with his hand and holds the other against my face, rubbing my cheek with his thumb. ― Rosamunde Pilcher, quote from Winter Solsticeīorn place: in Lelant, Cornwall, England, The United Kingdom The luxuries of self-indulgence, idleness, and total irresponsibility were all things that Carrie had long forgotten.” Onions frying, or perhaps a pot of soup on the boil. Towards noon, there came smells of cooking. Footsteps came and went from behind the closed door, voices called and answered. Telephones rang, and someone else hurried to answer the call.
She remembered as a child being ill, and in bed, and the awareness of others getting on with the business of day-to-day life without herself having to participate in any sort of way.
From time to time she heard the faint keening of wind, whining around the old house. Snow showers came and went the sky was grey. Had said, 'You look tired.' And, 'How about a little rest?' She had spent too many years being strong, looking after others and their problems.The day progressed, and through her window Carrie watched the weather and was glad she did not have to be out in it. “Carrie could not remember how long it was since some other person had cherished her.
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