‘It’s enough to make me cry.’ ‘That’s what I mean,’ he said. ‘With you and me, we own all of it. We feel it, and so it’s ours. Is having stuff so important to you? Do you really want to throw all this away for some damned industrial oven?’ ‘Ranges,’ she said. ‘Industrial ranges.’ It had been something she’d always wanted, her idea of the good life. ‘Whatever.’ Peg lowered her eyes. Seeing his pleasure had taken her back to what things had been like, but now here were the attacks again. ‘You promised,’ she said. He sighed. He closed the box and dropped it into the voluminous pocket of his coat. The things he carried around in his pockets had always been a constant source of amazement to her, and the memory pulled at her heart. They stood together, staring down into the river, watching the snow fall. They had met on this bridge, or near by. She’d been with some friends and he’d been riding by on a bike, bare foot, having lost his shoes at the beach. He’d lost his shirt to and was. David smiled to himself, “Just my sort of weather,” he thought.With warnings of a killer on the loose, David put on his coat and headed outside. He made his way to the local pub and sat in his usual spot by the bar. He made small talk with the barmaid, who always liked his light flirtations. After a few minutes flirting, he had enough of chatting her up. He looked around for someone new to chat to and saw her in the corner of the room.He saw a gorgeous woman with dark makeup. She wore a black dress and looked the epitome of gothic. It seemed to turn him on looking at her. Ignoring all the warning signals going off in his head, he walked over to her and started to chat her up.She told him her name was Franci, and she was just travelling through. She said she was looking for somewhere to stay the night, and as a cocky person he told her that if she played her cards right she could stay with him. She seemed to instantly warm to him even more, and soon they were flirting like.
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