It was a dismal afternoon. An eiderdown of pewter cloud hung low, casting fine drizzle over the bay. Barbara glanced through the steamed-up windows of her seafront cafe and noticed the beach was deserted, apart from a solitary dog walker.
‘Winter will soon be here,’ she sighed as she collected the empty cups and plates left by the last customers of the day – two earnest-looking birdwatchers in green waxy jackets, binoculars garlanded around their necks.
As if on cue, a V-shaped skein of geese scudded across the sky, honking noisily, a sure sign of colder days to come.
‘I’m just feeling tired,’ Barbara reflected to herself, pushing a wayward strand of greying hair behind her ears. At least now she’d have time for a decent haircut, and perhaps a colour, luxuries she’d denied herself since starting her business a couple of years ago.
Overall, it