“Morning, Nick,” said Bernadette, entering the kitchen. “They’re on their way.”
It was showtime. The doors were open, the soup was ready, bread too. He would be ladling the soup into bowls, while Bernadette dealt with the drinks.
Georgia felt dirtier stepping out of the shower than she did before she’d got in. She and Evelyn had scrubbed the room from top to bottom so many times, but it was no use, though, as some grime just wouldn’t budge. Pulling a face, she picked up a towel and dried herself, before changing into a clean T-shirt and khaki shorts. When she smelt her dirty clothes, she pulled a worse face – Evelyn had been right, she had hummed.
She felt a bit better after talking to Evelyn; felt closer to her sister, somehow. One thing was for sure, she’d cried enough over the last t
