4
Stranger in a Barn
It smells of cow dung and rotted hay, and it is pitch dark.
Peter stretches out his hand uncertainly and winces. He has stubbed his fingers on a wall of rough bricks. A gust of wind wraps itself around a chimney, whistling through the flue. A shutter blows open. Light from the moon picks out the low enclosures of sheep pens.
Peter takes a tentative step forward when a soft snuffling sound freezes him in his tracks. He is not alone. When he peers over the low wooden barrier next to him, he makes out several shapes, rolled up inside a stall. Another is on the ground in the passageway, leaning against a hay bale and covered by a blanket, with a long slender foot sticking out. The sleeper stirs restlessly and the blanket slips down, revealing an odd-looking men’s shirt
