When I walked across the forecourt, I heard Pete drive off back to the lighthouse, and it felt like I’d been on day release and was re-entering my incarceration. Worse, that woman from the hotel, Miriam, had made some friends, that pair of ferals I’d seen a few times, and the three women were huddled around the table beside the entrance door, like witches. Or rather, an old witch and her two novitiates, for one of the women had snow white hair and a weather-beaten face and looked ancient.
Con was nowhere to be seen. Pat poked her head into the cafeteria, checked to make sure it was me, and disappeared back into the kitchen. I’d only just put my bag down on my bed when she yelled at me to get to work.
It was my day off, but I wasn’t about to argue with her. I sauntered into the café, fou
