I called mother and accused her of being a liar.
'You said you took Gracie to a farm for a better life. But you put her down, didn’t you?’
Mother insisted I had it wrong. She drove me to a farm just outside Newhaven. There was Gracie. She looked deliriously happy.
‘You really expect me to believe she’s alive after all these years?’ I said.
‘Believe what you like,’ she said. ‘Now, come on, let’s have lunch.’
She turned away, and I waved goodbye to Gracie, hoping it really was her, nosing at the cloven hooves of ewes and sheep.