“Real, fierce ones with ravaging jaws and roars like the doorbell. The largest beast pealed mercilessly into her left ear. The sound of a maddened, hungry doorbell. It was the doorbell … Frances groped out her hand and grabbed a tail. The lion was sleeping upside down beside her. ‘Hell!’ she muttered. ‘The milkman.’ She pulled on her Harrods house-coat and loped downstairs. ‘Coming!’ she called through the locked door, struggling with stiff bolts. She hardly dared look up. She felt like ...the Princess in the fairy tale, face to face with her frog prince. First, she saw his shoes. Scuffed black lace-ups from Freeman, Hardy and Willis. Her eyes moved slowly up towards his trousers – grey turn-ups with a hole in the knee, brown plastic belt, navy nylon anorak. A small man, a thin man, but what about his face? Adonises could be pint-sized. She took a deep breath and jumped from grubby grey collar to flabby white face.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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