FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. "What is your name?" "Ruth. Ruth met him in the hall as he was following his family into the dining room. That is not reasonable. ‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. I've my own reasons for disliking this job. Either it was an unfortunate recovery of a trail, or he had followed her from Mayfair. She removed the belt and drew down his zipper. I know London better than you, and I have had to earn my own living. The Victorians over-did it a little, I admit.
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