A note was sitting next to the things she had taken from my pockets on the dressing table. It was simple and to the point.“Dag, it was a lovely time...(except for the bath). Help yourself to coffee and anything in the fridge before you go. The door will lock behind you automatically. Kisses, Peg”She was not expecting me to be here when she got back.She was not expecting anything.I sneezed. A cold, acquired, no doubt, from my dip in the river and subsequent fever, was settling into my head and. She pressed her ear to the door, but all she could hear was the thudding of her own heart. She teased a curtain aside and looked out. Nothing was there, of course. But there was a place where some branches were swaying, as if something had been there only a moment ago--It was the wind Jess-Belle decided. Surely it was just the wind? None of the other branches were moving, but that didn't mean she couldn't believe it. Still, she double-checked the locks on the doors and all the windows, and only. ) What was worse, after the interview she couldn't leave, she had to sit with the other dancers whilst the show continued. In the rehearsals, once they'd performed, each couple could leave but someone had obviously had a rethink. So Emma had to spend forty minutes dying to pee, ten minutes longer than any of her news broadcasts. She was sweating under the studio lights, her legs clamped together, jiggling her heels up and down and squirming in her seat, enough to make the rugby player beside. There were small smoking items, some snuff and cigars. The walls were packed with odd items. There was a skeleton of a chicken, attached with wires and hanging from the ceiling. There were strands of large glass beads, much too large for a necklace looping from shelves near the ceiling. The place was lit up, but the light was sepia tone.The shop was huge and we wandered until we saw a short, ancient-looking Chinese man standing behind a counter. There was a small round table there on a.
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