AL EMERGED HALF AN hour later, dressed in Marc’s jeans and a T-shirt and jumper and hoodie, and big woolly socks. The jeans were a bit big round the waist and short in the leg, but they’d do, Marc thought, eyeing him critically.
“Here,” he said, passing out a big bowl of porridge and honey that he’d had keeping warm on the stove. “Get that inside you and you’ll feel better. I think might have some really ancient mince in the freezer that Anghared can have. I’ll dig it out and defrost it in a minute.”
Mal nodded and curled himself into his previous chair by the fire again, legs tucked underneath him this time, less stiff. He spooned porridge into himself like a man possessed. Marc was worried he was going to eat the bowl. “Do you want some more?” he asked.
Mal looked at him. “Thank you,
