Gone Fishing
Jacqueline staggered along the lake bank under the weight of her fishing tackle, pausing to wipe a sheen of perspiration from her brow with the back of her hand. It was just half past ten in the morning but, even so early, the June sunlight blazed in a cloudless azure sky, searing the parched Lincolnshire countryside already scorched by the unusual heat wave of the past two weeks. Jacqueline turned to watch Susan, struggling ill-humouredly and muttering unladylike remarks under an even...