Skye clambered up the stepladder and fixed the pleated frill of brightly-coloured chintz to the pelmet boards above the casement window.
She was humming as she worked. In the pocket of the overall that covered her dress was a large business-like hammer and a workman-like pair of scissors.
An outside door slammed, vibrating through the tiny room.
A moment later Hector came in.
“Darling!” Skye exclaimed. “You are early, how lovely!”
“I got away as soon as I could,” he replied, “and just managed to catch the right bus. You know it is an invariable rule that it leaves one minute before you get to the stop.”
She turned to clamber down the steps, but he lifted her from the first step into his arms.
He kissed her passionately, her mouth, her eyes and cheeks, then, holding her at arms’ leng
