DAMIEN WAS LEANING against a wall just outside the door. It seemed to me as if I’d lived half my life in this farmhouse, but we couldn’t have been in there more than a few minutes. The sun was just disappearing below the horizon. The sound of electric guitars could be heard in the direction of the stage. No real music yet, just musos plugging in and checking their sound. Michael’s rhetoric must have run dry.
“Where’s the car?” asked our newest recruit.
Damien gave her the once over, nodded at me in appreciation. I shrugged back.
“Well?”
“What car?” I asked, again starting to feel as if I was out of my depth.
She looked at me, then at Morag. Disbelief fought with disgust on her angelic features. But she took a deep breath and tried again.
“I believe it is customary to provide a means
