Part 37:
link Is someone sawing timber outside? Gwen scrunches her eyes together, then blinks them open. It is barely light outside, and Arthur is sprawled on his back beside her, mouth wide open with the most God-awful racket issuing forth.
This is bad, even for him, she thinks, trying her normal tactic of stroking his cheek to get him to turn and shut up.
He feels a little warm, she notes, then presses her hand to his cheek, firmer, followed by his forehead.
It’s not too hot in here. I hope he hasn’t caught something....
