Читать книгу Christmas Weddings - Georgia Hill - Страница 6

It was weird coming back. Weird and cold.

Berecombe looked at once comfortingly familiar and slightly distorted, as if seen through a special-effects lens. Alf the Taxi dropped Millie off on the promenade outside the café, helped her with her rucksack and drove off with a cheery wave.

Feeling desolate, she looked around her. The sea was churning a dull grey in Lyme Bay and the sky was threateningly low and of a similar hue. In fact, Millie decided, everywhere was grey. The town had lost its bright bunting and bedding plants and was shuttered up for the winter. It was home, but it all looked smaller, inward-looking. After the vibrant noise and colour of Thailand, Berecombe, in the first week of November, was depressing.

She shivered violently. She was freezing and bone-weary. Heaving her rucksack onto her back, she made her way to the flat. All she wanted to do was to crawl under a duvet.