“He was rarely at railway stations to see family or friends on their way; and had never taken anyone to an airport and watched them disappear into Departures. Perhaps if he had been a regular at waving people off he would have known that travellers never had much time for those left behind. They hadn’t looked at him. They had left him as if he was history in their lives. As she’d settled into the back seat she’d been introduced to the driver, the man who had dropped off the rifle; Jonno had seen... his smile and hers, their handshake, and then the door had shut on her. They’d gone fast. She had been wrenched from him. He’d been to the mini-mart and bought bread, cheese and beer from Russia, ham, salad and more milk. He’d driven back up the hill. He carried the plastic bags into the kitchen. He called upstairs. No answer. He unpacked the bags: the fridge gaped empty. They had taken everything that was theirs and Posie’s. He called again. The surfaces and the floor shone. The quiet clung around him.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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