I tried to shake my head, but Miss Bonnet’s gloved hand was firmly under my chin tipping my head back. Brenda was continuing to tell me what a poppe... I was, as the room started to spin and her words were echoing. I felt so emotional and confused, I wanted to go home. The waist strap and the foot restraint pressing on my boots stopped me struggling. I could see Miss Bonnet’s other gloved hand begin to gently massage the re-breathing bag squeezing more of the gas into me. Mr. Davis stood. She was about 50 he decide, dressed in a somber black, a tad overweight perhaps but not unattractive. she neither spoke or acknowledged them, or that he was not Mark, just nodding to Olive as she met them at the car. She motioned them to follow, leading them silently between the hearse and the big ominous black cars, through a hidden door in the corner and down a set of stairs. At the foot of the stairs she motioned Olive to wait, leading Gethin to a small room and telling him in a broad black. More

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