THIRTY-FIVE
ONE MONTH LATER
Snow had come early to Middle England, large flakes steadily settling over the landscape. Gemma walked the few hundred yards from her home to the Talbot Inn, the centrepiece of the village. She pulled her suede jacket around her neck as flakes began to invade her personal space. It was fully dark, even though it was not yet seven in the evening. Good idea to head out early, she thought, noticing the throng of humanity that was moving around inside the cosy pub. Houses and pubs were decorated in fairy lights, giving the village a festive feeling. Off to her left a detached house outshone all around it, an inflatable Father Christmas suspended halfway up the front wall, a large reindeer attempting to scale the roof. It was her first night out since she had volun
