“It’s where you went yesterday. The service block.’ ‘It’s not there.’ ‘For goodness sake, can’t you let me sleep just for once?’ ‘But I need a pee. I’m going to wet myself.’ ‘So go to the service block. It’s only fifty metres away. Surely you can manage that?’ ‘It’s not there.’ ‘It is. Go outside, turn left and go around this revolting caravan, then carry straight on. That’s where it is.’ ‘Which is left?’ ‘Oh, pee on the grass for heaven’s sake, and let me sleep. Wake your dad if you insist on p...laying up.’ ‘Nearly everything has gone.’ ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘Come and look.’ ‘Look where?’ ‘Out of the window. Nearly everything has gone.’ Isabelle Sundberg props herself up on her elbow. Her six-year-old daughter Molly is kneeling by the window. Isabelle pushes her out of the way and pulls back the curtain. She is just about to point in the direction of the service block, but her hand drops. Her first thought is: scenery.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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