Light snow powdered the lawn and much of Chessington's driveway, making white fingers of the tree branches and sprinkling the stone lions, as if by a pastry chef. Cass thrust her fingers deeper into the pockets of her coat-anything to mask what crept up her spine.
"Ow, for the love of soddin' Christ, Saff, just another week or so?"
Ruby's imitation of her was so startling, it dragged Cass from her contemplation. Not of the stone lions. If only.
"Whot the bleedin' hell is goin' on here? Yer mind tellin' me that?"
That spoon she'd nicked this morning from the mustard pot, right beneath Belle and Eudora's noses at the breakfast table was something. The tiny, scrolled silver one that, pushing her fingertips deeper into her coat pocket, she could reach. Just. It made a very shiny bright com
