Dinner in The Grapes didn’t proceed as intended. It started well as Jake and Gwen clinked glasses of red wine with Jake gallantly cutting Gwen’s steak into small bite-sized pieces so she could eat one-handed. He also showed interest in her upbringing in Scotland and chortled at her ironic sense of humour. The contrast when he became silent and pale and toyed with his food disturbed her.
“What’s bothering you, laddie?”
He was staring over her shoulder towards the window, so she turned to look at what was troubling him. It could hardly be the two middle-aged women enjoying a companionable chat over their drinks.
“What is it, Jake?”
“You can’t see him, can you, Gwen?”
“Who, love?”
“The Saxon warrior. Sitting to the left of the window. He’s glaring at me, and his aspect is horrible; his
