Haunting Echoes
that point. Since leaving the so-called home of his
childhood his life had been blameless. On that terrible
day, looking down at the smouldering shell, he’d vowed
to lead a normal life and never regretted it but, if he
must revert to old ways to protect himself, then so be
it; it wasn’t his fault.
There were few passing cars and no one on foot on
the outskirts of the village as Clarrie parked and
unloaded her paint box and easel. She decided to carry
them up the hill, leaving the picture in the boot while
she set up, rather than risk smudging it. It was only
nine-o-clock, the day promised to be bright and the air
was still; it was sure to be a fruitful session.
We hope that you enjoyed this extract
from Haunting Echoes by Mai Griffin
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