Fenella sat on the grass bank and watched the crowds milling around her, plates of scones, strawberries and cream and glasses of Pimms clutched in their hands. There was a time, when she would have given anything to be amongst them, gossiping about this person and that person, were they in favour with the committee, had they been seen in the wrong kinds of clubs and so forth.
This year she was here to do no more than spectate; she should have stayed away as already her flesh was beginning to crawl. On the surface this bright society of cultured snacks, cocktails and tittle tattle had seemed so attractive to her when she had arrived in Westbury. Once she left the daylight world that had wooed her in and saw the darker side of Westbury’s people there was nothing left of that attraction. There was only fear.
Even now she was here to pretend that she was still a normal member of that world, when in truth she was far from that; in fact she was here to despatch the Chairman, and she intended to get away with it.