The rain had stopped, leaving a brilliant clear night. One of Helen’s combs had fallen out of her hair, which flopped forward over her face. More sinister, Jake noticed an unfamiliar missel-thrush singing in the willow tree nearest the stables, the day before they were due to leave for Crittleden. Turning to Billy,he added, “It’s harder than getting Snakepit into the lorry.
Gabriella, and Bianca, and that obnoxious Joanna,” she emphasized all the ‘a’s, ‘and Marion looking daggers at me all afternoon, and worst of all Grania; if she’s a Lady, I’m the Queen of Sheba. There’s cold chicken and potato salad in the larder, and I’ve washed a lettuce. Christ, he’s jumping well. She took a brick out of the wall and had a pole down at the second element, then crashed through the third.
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