The three women were, in their separate ways, haplessly exposing their nerves. With their forties bearing down on them like trucks out of control, they were trying to move semi-paralysed limbs out of the line of collision. They had seen older friends go through it; the brush with mortality that turns hair grey suddenly, puts a paunch under the stretch scars of motherhood and stamps new deeply-etched lines upon the face. In a kind of frozen autism, their self-obsessions distanced them from the cacophony of the world around them. Then they became aware of what their husbands had conspired to do.
Born in India to British parents. came to the UK after the war. Trained as a teacher. Taught for five years. Then a social worker. Then an academic, with M.A. and PhD, becoming a Professor of Management Research and international consultant. Worked/researched in over 20 countries inc. Uzbekistan, Russia, eastern Europe, western Europe, Canada, US. All this time I wrote fiction privately. In the last decade I have turned to publishing my work, using my varied and challenging experience of cultures as a backdrop. My output is eclectic, under two names; Jack Sanger and Eric le Sange (for genre writing) I write to challenge, entertain and influence.