Chapters (95)
- Cover
- Also by Jenny Bayliss
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- Chapter 81
- Chapter 82
- Chapter 83
- Chapter 84
- Chapter 85
- Chapter 86
- Chapter 87
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Discussion Guide
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“Yes, ma’am,” said John, sidling past her to the sink. “So, I’ve been talking with Alfred.”
“I should hope so. It would make for a boring work environment if you were both silent.”
“I’ve found a shelter. It’s a few miles away, but they’ve got space.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A homeless shelter. It’s a kind of halfway house really, for people like Alfred. To get them used to having a home again.”
Annie stopped what she was doing.
“What did Alfred say?”
“He says he’ll give it some thought.”
“I must say that’s a better response than I thought you’d get. From what I understand, people have tried to get him help before without success.”
“But there must be a reason for that,” said John. “Something that’s happened in his past that has stopped him from being able to live inside, and at some point, it needs to be addressed. These guys have counselors to help him get to the bottom of all that.”
“It sounds like just the thing he needs,” said Annie. “I’ve been worrying more and more about him. Some of the nights he sleeps in the cave are just bitter; I don’t know how he can bear it. I even thought about getting him a bed to try and tempt him to stay in the Bay instead of going into the city for the winter.”
“Hopefully, this will be the answer. The shelter has booked him in preliminarily for Tuesday the ninth of December; that gives me a bit of time to ease him into the idea. They’re happy for me to take him to see the place first, so it doesn’t feel like such a shock. Don’t mention it when he comes in, you know what he’s like. If he thinks we’ve been talking about him, his pride will get all dented and he’ll take off.”
“Is that what happened last time?” Annie asked.
But the conversation was brought to an abrupt halt by the appearance of Alfred. The three unlikely companions sat together at one of the tables and ate their fish finger sandwiches in the lamplight, while outside the late afternoon grew darker and darker. Nobody spoke about the shelter, though it was clearly on all of their minds.
After they had eaten, the three of them went out to look at the fence. It was dark now, and Annie was about to get her phone torch out, when John stood at the gate and waved his arm toward the house and two lamps either side of the door came on to light the porch area, some of the light spilling down the stairs into the garden.
“Wow!” said Annie.
“The bulbs went back in August, and I didn’t get round to changing them,” he said sheepishly. “I should have sorted it as soon as you moved in.”