They were in the back room. The mistletoe was hanging by the door and I looked straight at it and then at them. The holly scratched my cheek when I went in. They had mugs of coffee and were more or less sitting on top of each other. I’m sure the chairs weren’t that close together before. ‘Hi, Lamb,’ Sarah said in an odd voice. Doggo didn’t look at me. ‘Hi,’ I said. ‘You’re bleeding,’ Sarah said and I put my finger up and smeared the blood away. ‘How’s Mr Dickens then?’ Doggo turned his eyes on me and they were the bleakest eyes I’ve ever seen. The room seemed to sway. ‘How should I know?’ I said. ‘Because you’ve seen him.’ ‘He’s OK.’ ‘Sure?’ Doggo said. ‘Lamb.’ Sarah’s voice was gently bewildered. ‘He is dead.’ There was a long pause. ‘Is he?’ I said. All their eyes, even Doughnut’s blind eyes, were hot on me as searchlights. ‘So?’ I said. ‘So?’ Doggo repeated. ‘So?’ There really wasn’t much else I could say.
