SYBIL

“I’ve been looking for you,” said the woman with determination.

“Me? Why?” I responded.

“Don’t think that I haven’t noticed.”

“Noticed what?” I was confused.

“How much time you are spending with my daughter,” she replied.

“I think you must be mistaking me for someone else.”

“You’re Seymour. Seymour Glass.”

“No. No, I’m not. I’m Ben. I’m here on holiday with my wife.”

“Then, where is she? I saw you on the beach with my Sybil.”

I couldn’t answer that. I didn’t know where my wife was or even what I was doing on the beach.