Although he had only just returned to work, Henry Dobbs requested the next day off. Perhaps because he volunteered for extra work and did extra shifts so frequently, his request was granted even though it meant phoning around for an off-duty manager to take his place at a moment’s notice. One was found eventually, and Dobbs breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted time with Mrs Wilson now that she was on her way.
The next morning, he was up early, cooking a boiled egg, one of his very few culinary accomplishments, making toast and coffee and noting, gratefully that the sun was shining brightly on the field outside his kitchen window. He had decided to tell Joanne everything he knew so far but was hoping he could take her somewhere quiet and peaceful, oh yes and private, to chat. He made a qui
