CHAPTER TWENTY-THREEColin awoke the following morning, when Delphine prised his eyelids open with her finger and thumb.
“Breakfast in bed,” she announced, passing him a mug of orange juice and a chunk of stale bread plastered in jam, which under her acute gaze, he felt obliged to try, at least.
“I’ll save the rest for later,” he said, brushing the crumbs from his sleeping bag. There was no escape from the orange juice, which was fizzing slightly from having been in a hot locker for too many days. She sat on the opposite bunk, monitoring his progress.
“What shall we do today?” she asked, when he had finished.
“What would you like to do?” He was about to add, mechanically, after you’ve apologised to Tyler, but he realised the real apology, the one that mattered most, was being made there
