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" Emma was a bit taken aback. "Well, umm, I suppose there's nothingwrong with that. Are you felling better?" she added, concern in her voice."Yes, fine," Mandy replied, softening. "Thanks." She headed for the door."Got to go. Bye." Wait, who are you ..." Mandy heard Emma calling after her as the frontdoor closed behind her.Mandy ran down the street towards Sloane Square. She caught the tube toEmbankment Station, walking briskly up towards Trafalgar Square. The daywas warm but cloudy, and it began to sprinkle. She opened her folding pinkumbrella and held it aloft as she made her way through the throng (despitethe rain) of tourists and sightseers, past Nelson's Column (giving alittle wave to the nearest of the four enormous bronze lions at its base),straight towards the unmistakable portico of the National Gallery at thetop of the vast open square.Once inside, she headed down the entire length of the gallery to thefurthest room, as arranged.She saw James immediately, sitting side-on to. I breathed it in as I examined my new surroundings. I was standing in a crowded room. A rustic tiled stove stood to the left of the entry door and beyond that, another door led to a small storeroom. At the center of the room was situated a worn wooden table flanked by two mismatched chairs. Tucked into the southeast corner of the room was a solid wooden bedstead. A tall linen press stood to the right of the bedstead, and a rugged ladder stood against the wall beside it so that one might climb to the loft. Crocks, baskets, and pots were tucked in every corner and on every shelf. Garlands of flowers, herbs, fruits, and vegetables were draped from the rafters. It was a cozy and entirely charming little house. Erich walked from one side of the room to the other, running his fingers over the furniture and occasionally brushing dust away. He opened cupboards and picked up books, trinkets, and mementos, exclaiming his memory of each item. After a number of minutes, he turned toward me and.
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