Molly jumped out of her doze, disorientated for a moment by the shrill ring of the doorbell. It rang again, and this time she realised what it was. She glared at the grandmother clock on the wall. Five o’clock. Who the devil is it? I’m not expecting anyone.
Who the devil is it? I’m not expecting anyone.She picked up her cane and heaved herself out of the armchair, managing to hobble over to the door. As she passed the window, she saw that a heavy gale was blowing and the snow had gotten deeper since last she’d looked. It was almost up to the wheel arches on her car.
She unlocked the door but, just as she turned the handle, the wind tore it open and knocked her backwards. It sent her sprawling to the floor, her cane rolling out of reach. Before she could get up, two figures darted through
