Ghost Flight: Chapter Eighteen

Wendy’s sleeve drags through spilled beer, and she grits her teeth. January was always a grim month in England, with the comedown from Christmas and the many friends and family members at whom she had to smile and nod, knowing that their self-improvement drives would not see the spring. But at least the summer was never much brighter. In Cyprus – working at a seafront bar – Wendy knows what she is missing. Every night that her sweatshirt clings damp to her wrists she feels cheated. This is not what it was supposed to be like here. These are not the conditions that she came for.