He was zombie-walking as Hobo accompanied him to the kitchen. The click-clack of dog toenails on hardwood floors.Refrigerator light. Grapefruit bottle... deep gulps. I’ll have to speak to Pilar about her little boyfriend. Remind her there is something called civilized behavior. Drinking from the bottle indeed.Hobo trotted over to the sofa, gave my thigh a cold nose-bump, and continued to the elevator door. Which he sniffed for any sign of impending visitors.Back to Walker. I smiled at my. She turned to look out of her window. “No… I guess not.” She fell silent again.As we got closer to home, Katie said, “Can you drop me off at the end of the lane. I don’t want to risk anyone seeing me arrive in your car. I’ll walk back to the house from there.”I nodded. “Yeah… sure. A good idea.”We turned off the main road into the private lane which led to the farmhouse. I stopped and we got out. I opened the boot and Katie took her rucksack out. She looked up at me, a shy smile on her face,. More

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