![]() ![]() In spite of the night’s falling temperature, someone was out, night fishing from a boat, and lights bobbed periodically with the river’s movement. He sat at a table that overlooked the water. ![]() ![]() But the Blue Dove would not allow him to do so. In the Royal Plantagenet-despite its proximity to his house-he might have forgotten for five minutes or so. Rather, he had walked along the embankment, past the triangular green where he and Matthew had once learned to operate their pair of remote-control planes, and had instead entered an older pub that stood on a spit of land reaching like a curled finger into the Thames. Kevin Whateley had not gone to the Royal Plantagenet, which was the pub next door to his cottage. She went to tell her father that they would need to reschedule his doctor’s appointment for another day. She tried to plumb the depths of her feelings, to put a name to what was slowly washing through her veins. James house at half-past seven,” she repeated. ![]()
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