knew where Dad kept his secret stash – at the back of the drawer in the garden shed. There was a cheap plastic lighter there too. He would have time to put the lighter back before his dad returned from his fishing trip with his friends; he always had a drink in Simrishamn before coming home. He knew he should be in bed at this hour, but Mamma was more lax during the school summer holidays. The beach, a local haunt, had been quite busy during the day, as it always was when the weather was sunny. Now it was a fine, warm evening; dusk beginning to hug the landscape. The beach was deserted except
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