11 HOURS
Margaret has parked her Volvo near to my flat. I place my bag in the boot and we get in to take the short drive to Simshill, where Alesha lives. Margaret and I wait in the car while Alesha dashes in to collect her necessaries for an overnight stay, together with a change of workwear for tomorrow.
Only a few minutes later, we drive through Clarkston Toll, exiting onto the Mearns Road. Half a mile further, we turn left, drive a little further, then pull into a driveway. The car’s tyres crunch over the red whin chip surface, announcing our arrival.
We ascend a shallow ramp which covers the three steps to the entrance, then go through a broad uPVC glazed front door to enter a square hallway with several doors off. Margaret points, in turn, to each of the rooms on the ground level.
