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THE OLD SALT WORKS, LOS COCOTEROS, TUESDAY 26 MARCH 2019Billy woke up late in a tangle of duvet, sweating. He’d forgotten to draw the curtains and the morning sun was slowly turning his bedroom into an oven. He untangled himself and rolled over onto his back. His head felt thick. Too much beer the night before. When he had nothing to celebrate other than a full fridge after his shopping expedition.
The stress of his forced lockdown was getting to him. He’d begun to think it was good Natasha had died. Because if she hadn’t, if she was still there beside him, he’d have been frantic. But then, he would have left the island. Definitely. He would not have ridden it out like a sitting duck. He should care more about his own safety. Take action. Leave. Not be a rabbit in a burrow, too scared
