Trent had been so wound up that he didn’t even hear the shower stop running. ‘He’ll be fine, Trent. He just needs to rest for a while.’ ‘He�...�s dead, man!’ Trent protested fearfully, worrying that the English guy was maybe a nutter and he’d killed the boy in the bed and now he was going to do Trent as well. ‘Yes… but he’s been dead for quite a few years now. He’s used to it. Trust me.’ Dominic patted him on the shoulder and came to sit beside the dead youth lying sprawled on their bed. He was. Dressed in a gray coat with black piping around the collar and a black Trilby hat on his head, he looked like a true gentleman from an age long ago in her youth.He smiled, removing his hat, intelligent pale blue eyes alert, looking at her. With a smile, he extended his hand.“Hello, Betty. I’ve come to have a chat with you.”From years of politeness, Betty shook his proffered hand. She noticed his fingernails were spotlessly clean and trimmed, his hands liver-spotted. His grip was warm and dry.. More

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