Confessional
“The girl, on a second look, was older than he had thought, perhaps sixteen, and wore Wellingtons and jeans and an old reefer coat that was too big for her. She had a pointed face, wide dark eyes, and a profusion of black hair flowed from beneath a knitted Tarn O'Shanter. The boy was younger, no more than ten, with ragged jersey, cut-down tweed trousers and rubber and canvas running shoes that had seen better days. He was in the act of withdrawing a gaff from the water, a salmon spitted on it. Cussane smiled. 'Where I come from that wouldn't be considered very sporting.' 'Run, Morag!' the boy cried and lunged at Cussane with the gaff, the salmon still wriggling on the end. A section of the bank crumbled under his foot and he fell back into the pool. He surfaced, still clutching the gaff, but in an instant, the swift current, swollen by the heavy rain, had him in its grasp and carried him away. 'Donal!' the girl screamed and ran to the edge. Cussane got a hand to her shoulder and ...pulled her back, just in time as another section of the bank crumbled.MoreLess
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