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Marcus sat in his office waiting for the confirmation that Miranda would be travelling with him. Mrs Rogers was getting along in years, and he was confident the she would pass this over to her junior. Peter walked into the office with a little smile. ‘I’ve just come from Mrs Rogers… she said to tell you that they’ve discussed it between them and feel that it should be Mrs Rogers travelling with you.’ ‘Thank you Peter, sort it out will you… but go and have your lunch first… didn’t you have something you needed to deal with?’ Marcus didn’t even blink, his mind already working out counter plans and strategies. ‘Yes… Actually there is something I need to do — thanks Marcus.’ Peter regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, but didn’t comment further. An hour or so later Peter came back into the office and began to make arrangements for the business trip on the following Sunday. Marcus was busy on the telephone when Peter first got back, and so little was said. He was just about to. “Heal all, must heal all.” “Hey, Mister, what are ya doing? You don’t need to be here! Sleep it off somewhere else.” Rueben sat up, dusted himself off, and shook his head at the night watchman. “Yeah, fine, I’ll go now.” “Yeah, you’d better! Otherwise I’ll call the cops.” He nodded and started on his way home. He needed to make sense of what happened to him, and figured that the act of writing it out might put the jumbled pieces together. He walked out of the cemetery trying to figure out how he’d get this disturbing image out of his head, and onto paper. He felt himself the happiest when he was sitting at his computer, and typing the images that flowed from his mind. He arrived home, still trying to guess what the hell he was doing in the cemetery to begin with. He took the house key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Once inside, he raced into the den and turned on the computer. He started to write down what had happened to him, the morning’s packing to go home, the plane.
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