“I don’t mind.” She yawned.
“Good. We’ll need to hurry to catch the tide. I’ve left you some clothes out, so you get dressed quickly and then make sure I haven’t left anything behind, okay?”
My hands were moist on the steering wheel as I drove us back over the causeway. Would Ian be pleased to see me? Or was I just about to ruin a perfectly good memory by trying to make something more out of it?
I guessed I was about to find out.
The visitor car park on Lindisfarne was two-thirds full already. Clearly the prospect of some good old-fashioned blood and guts was enough to get people out of bed early, even on a bank holiday weekend. Kelis and I got breakfast on the way to the priory, a couple of cheese baguettes which we polished off on the short walk, although mine was sitting uneasily in
