At Ramsgill the breakfast had been late and a decidedly broad church in terms of ingredients. Everyone had grabbed at least four hours shut-eye, and Sonia was now sleeping the sleep of the righteous in the sick-room after her night-shift. Brian ate several day-old bacon sandwiches, claiming that he was fine despite having not slept a wink.
Bernie and Rupi were in the ladies toilet.
‘Argh! I look like a panda!’ cried Bernie into the mirror. All her eye make-up had travelled inches in all directions from its original position during the night. While applying moistened toilet paper in an attempt to improve the situation, and only managing to make things worse, Bernie observed that Rupi still looked pristine.
‘How do you do that?’ she protested.
Rupi looked dignified, ‘I use quality ingred
