I need some more of those things, Mum, theones that stop the pain. 'I'm sorry? Are you quite sure? Yes. There was something outside the caravan, it had woken herup: what was it? Louise sat up in her sleeping bag, breathingheavily, her heart thudding. Fiona Michael's voice was low, soothing, not the stridentbark Octavia had somehow imagined.
' But she felt miserable about not havingone; it looked inefficient. ''Yes, it is,' he said. ''Trouble is,' she had said carefully, not really looking athim, 'it can get a bit out of control. But it was all part of her sense ofrightness, of moral order, of her painful conscience.
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