"Justice delayed is justice denied."
-WILLIAM GLADSTONEMay 1877
Gavin rose from his desk at the first rumble of the lorry up the cove road.
His housekeeper had told him two days ago that she'd learned in the village a widow had rented the cottage that stood in his line of vision toward the sea. His first reaction had been, how dare this stranger intrude upon my solitude.
His next had been, who dares to break my exile?
He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and glared out his bay window across the cove as Chipswell's lorry driver pulled up...