Spit And Polish
They came with playing-field mud on their shoes, drizzle in their hair, andmurder in their eyes. They stood side-by-side in the doorway, the very pictureof cold vengeance — large, grim and freckled. Anna had already heardthem on the gravel in front of the barracks, and on the wooden stairs; hadalready guessed that nothing good was coming to her, because nothing good ever cameto her, while trouble visited her daily — sometimes metaphorically, andsometimes, as now, rather physically. So she...