8
A SECOND BREAKFAST
The village at that early hour of a Sunday morning was deserted. There was no sign of movement and not a sound, not even a barking dog, among all of the twenty or so dwellings. Bracing herself for the door-knocking task ahead, Clarissa eyed the sprawl of low, flat-roofed buildings, many of them unrendered stone, arranged higgledy-piggledy and fanning up towards the cliff. She could only hope that inside one of those dwellings there were folk indoors, still asleep or waking up. The woman with the donkeys, perhaps.
As they entered the empty car park, Clarissa decided that the woman with the donkeys had to reside in the fenced-off allotment to their left, where there were a few small trees and sheltered areas where vegetables grew. She made a mental note to knock on th
