She looked almost as if she had been crying. ‘What’s going on?’ Mike asked. ‘Have a seat, Mr. Connors,’ the standing woman said. Mike looked... seeing her for the first time. She was several years older than Robin, he guessed. She had shoulder-length black hair, shot through with silver at the temples and an angry pair of blue eyes that flashed warningly at him. A few years ago, she might have been pretty, beautiful even. Or maybe it was her stance and the look on her face that marred her. Duncan had left a wake up call, but that was a real misnomer! He hadn’t been able to shut his eyes for more than an hour or two all night. And he hadn’t been able to sleep then. In the bathroom he nicked himself shaving, couldn’t find his styptic pencil, then bled profusely through the toilet paper he used to stem the flow. Knowing he was grumpy Duncan vowed to hold his tongue. He may never see Helen again and he wanted her to have kind thoughts of him in the years to come. Helen’s morning. More

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