Iris and Hilda stared back at him from the photo frame.
Help me. Where am I supposed to go next?
Help me. Where am I supposed to go next?“What would you do?” he asked Iris aloud. “It’s alright for you – sitting there, grinning like the Cheshire cat. You always had the answer. I’m not half as clever. Give me a sign.”
There was a knock at the door.
Bogged down as he had been in his runaway train of thought, Adam had completely failed to notice the white Transit van pulling up outside Orchard House. The driver – a courier dressed in a high-vis jacket – was now standing outside his front door, struggling to prop up a wide, tall, rectangular package that he had obviously had great difficulty manoeuvring down the path.
Adam launched himself off the sofa and opened the door to the snaggle-to
