Walter was drawn from the kitchen by a hammering on the front door. He glanced at the grandfather clock in the hallway as he hurried to answer it. It was still very early, not yet six. The sun was already well advanced though, the bright morning rays coming through the glass panes to either side of the door and throwing coloured patterns across the black-and-white floor tiles.
Sylvia was poised at the top of the stairs as he reached for the big brass doorknob, hastily pulling on her dressing gown. She and Lucy used the room over the portico for just this reason, so night-time emergencies could wake her easily.
“I’ll get it,” he threw over his shoulder to her, stumbling over the cat as he took his eye off where he was going. “Bugger, Jasper, get on out of it, will you?” He shooed him away
