CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
It was late afternoon when Stan had got to the ferry port at Cirkewwa. For Steel, the drive had been exciting, to say the least – if not slightly terrifying. Stan had proven himself to be a complete lunatic behind the wheel once more, causing angry drivers to beep their horns or shout abuse. But the old London cabbie seemed to enjoy it.
The ferry was due to depart at quarter past. Leaving them plenty of time to get the taxi aboard and grab a seat near the onboard kiosk. Stan had found a small shop on board and had taken off to top up on magazines and snacks. Steel grabbed a coffee, a bottle of water and a sandwich from the kiosk, thinking he would need them later.
The twenty-five-minute crossing was calm and uneventful. The ferry was full of tourists, unhappy babies, a
