14: Friday: Conversation Between Friends
IT was a quarter to eleven when Callaghan arrived at Southing. He slowed the car down and stopped it fifty yards from the iron gates that led to the carriage drive of the Manor House. He looked about him for a convenient clump of trees off the road, found one, drove the car over the grass verge, parked it behind the trees and walked slowly along the narrow road, keeping in the shadows.
A wind had sprung up. The sky was cloudy with an occasional pale moon showing through. Callaghan, his hands in his overcoat pockets, arrived at the iron gates, found one of them open.
He walked quickly through the gate, passed by the lodge just inside and, keeping on the grass at the side of the drive, began to walk towards the house.
The drive was a long one. Hal
