Fourteen
Herbert sat himself forward and took a long sip of beer. It was golden, inviting . . . almost chewable. He saw Benjamin checking his watch and Sophie looking at them both from where she sat to Herbert’s side. She was watching how their faces were drawn out from the small crowd of people in the bar. A warm flux of imagination came into her veins, shifting her focus to the patterns of hair that sprouted from Herbert’s head. There were less patterns on Benjamin’s, she noted, especially from the centre. Then she thought to blink, thinking that she had never had to think that before, while further patterns in the bar stepped forward and encouraged her interest. Across the table, Felicity glanced away from her conversation with Derek and watched Sophie take in the entirety of the room
