“I advise you not to show this book to anyone else. Simply, read it and then hand it back to me, before the ceremony. I think you may find you concur with our revised arrangements.” He then wound up his open window and drove sedately down the driveway, towards the gates.
What if Constance Goodchild’s wraith, was the same creature, that their little cabal was seeking and furthermore, what if her entity, was also, their ‘Powderfinger?’ He looked curiously through the smoked glass, squinting, as if that would allow him to see through the mirk. He was really looking outwards, at the faint outline of the cold dark canal, reflected in the pale moonlight below him and even though he knew, that there was nothing tangible out there, he couldn’t help but look. In truth, he was looking for that translucent glow, which she had described several times in great detail, moving along the bankside.
Alan, was now starting to believe …..