They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. org/fundraising. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred.
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