“Who the hell do you think you are? God?” Esme’s eyes flashed, she placed her hands on her hips and thrust her chin forward. “Just because you got some photos, Rick Hughes, doesn’t mean you get to choose life or death over people.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you? Or is it you don’t want to know? Shame you can’t use your precious photos, in any case.”
wantRick hated it when he rowed with Esme. She always won any heated discussions or at least made him feel she did. Why was she being so unreasonable after all he had suffered to get the pictures on his mobile? Had she forgotten that he had saved her and Gary from the clutches of the Vikings?
“I don’t see why not.”
“No? You’d have to tell the world how you got them: a small matter of travelling back in time. How are you going to
