Colin closed the door with his foot and laid the large box of groceries on the counter, before bending down to stroke Toby, Martin’s dog. “Hello fella, you been a good boy then?”
The large black and tan German Shepherd dog gave a single deep woof in answer.
“Toby, you’ll get me shot if the Guide Dog Association knows that you’re barking at visitors,” Martin said, making his way into the kitchen. “Hi, Colin, running a bit late?”
“Yeah, mate, it’s all the extra stuff people have been ordering for Christmas.”
Colin looked at the five feet nine inch, slightly overweight man who had just entered. Martin’s auburn hair caught the light from the above fluorescent tube as he made his sightless way towards his visitor. The harsh lighting did nothing to conceal Martin’s severely pock-marked fac
