Tonight Banjo was lethargic and showed no interest in going out, lying instead in front of the heat of the gas fire. Reggie was grateful, it was a horrible night, gusts of wind repeatedly lifting and dropping the brass knocker on Ms. MacDonald’s front door, so that it sounded as if an unseen visitor were desperate to get in. Cathy come home to Wuthering Heights. Mum’s ghost looking for Reggie. Back soon. Je reviens. Or just nobody and nothing. Fast falls the eventide; the darkness deepens.
