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Chapter One

It was the first Friday in December and it was an extremely cold day; a strong northerly wind had been blowing uninterrupted for the past few days. Exposed and unprotected it cut like a knife. The Christmas rush was already well under way, except for myself. For I was of the opinion that there was far too much hype; it always starts too early and, after all, it’s over in just one day. I’d fought my way through the crowds of Christmas shoppers and made my way to W H Smiths, dodging as many people with their overflowing bags as I could. I was upstairs looking for my new year diary, without a lot of luck I have to say, when from about three aisles away I heard a woman’s voice calling a child. Not much in that, you may think, but I hadn’t seen the owner of that voice for almost six years. I still recognised the voice of Louise Shaw after all this time. I felt uneasy about looking round to see if it was the person I thought it was, when all of a sudden some of the old feelings rushed back.

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