Chapter Thirteen
Georgie had spent four years waiting for confirmation of Hubert’s death. She had perfected waiting. But today’s waiting was quite different. Things were happening too quickly, the seconds galloping past. She wanted to slow everything down. She cupped her hands and shouted to the girl: “Someone’s coming to help you,” then turned to the boy. “It’s going to be all right.” She snatched a glance at Vickery, already beginning his descent, then climbed to her feet and ran across to her father, pale-faced and agitated by the carriages. Her explanation was hasty, the words tumbling over one another. He caught her arm when she turned to go, his grip almost frantic. “Don’t go near the edge.”
Georgie looked up at his face and saw that he was as scared for her as she was for Vickery.
