CHAPTER 6
LONDON TRAMLINK, WIMBLEDON TO BECKENHAM JUNCTION
Bethany cautiously opened the door of the bedsit’s rickety wardrobe. She decided that her landlady had probably acquired it from a rag and bone man, judging by its appearance. The veneer had peeled back in places to make the exterior seem like a person afflicted by some rare skin disease. Paler patches of wood showed through beneath the darker stained lamination. She didn’t care, as long as the boxlike structure didn’t topple over onto her. Her less than extensive collection of clothing was dangling on wire hangers—had they been sentient beings, they would have suffered the indignity of this imprisonment in the musty interior. All Bethany cared about was the full-length mirror fixed to the inside of the wardrobe door. Like the re
