Chapter 9
George had got John a k****e e-reader the Christmas before he died. It had taken John a while to work out how to load books onto the device, but now he liked to think of himself as something of an expert. His k****e had been a Godsend during the many lonely and sleepless nights just after George’s death. Armed with his electronic library and the deck chair he found in the lean-to at the side of the cottage, John walked down to the beach to spend a little time reading. The warm but not overly hot sun, the rhythmic sound of the waves, plus the less than gripping plot of his book all combined to send him off to sleep.
He woke a few hours later, his face hot, itchy, and sore.
“s**t,” he said, rubbing at his nose. He never tanned, he just went an unattractive shade of red. And what
