” Anna drummed impatiently with her fingers against the arm of her chair. The girl wished that she had come afoot, despite the knowledge that she would have suffered many inconveniences, accidental and intentional jostling, insolence and ribald jest. ‘And that object confirms me in the belief that it is not I who will shortly meet my maker. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Usually it was fish sticks and reheated noodles. God only knows what I have done, or left undone. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat.
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