Jane Banbury was sitting at her desk. It was a dark desk, made of solid wood. Empty, apart from sheets of lined paper, an ink pen, a mild table lamp and a cup of steaming black tea. She hadn’t taken a sip yet, not wanting …
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Jane Banbury was sitting at her desk. It was a dark desk, made of solid wood. Empty, apart from sheets of lined paper, an ink pen, a mild table lamp and a cup of steaming black tea. She hadn’t taken a sip yet, not wanting …
Read MoreJane Banbury had more than an hour to wait for her train and it was unpleasantly cold at the station. The café on the opposite road side was not a place she would usually visit. As a writer, she avoided crowded places, nosy people, all …
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