I avoid looking at her, negotiating first a junction, then a couple of sharp bends leading into the service station. Vicky opens the car door, puts a ...oot on the tarmac, then turns.“Where is it you’re going, exactly?”I can’t resist the obvious answer. “Wherever.”Vicky doesn’t take the bait. “That’ll do. Whatever. Wait here.” As if I’m her chauffeur.“Sure.”I watch as she walks away from the car, tanned legs striding, long blonde hair well on its way to a meet and greet with denim-hugged,. ’ ‘I come here looking for feathers for my collection.’ I told him, thinking I needed to explain my presence in such an isolated place. ‘I see others bringing bread – so today, so did I.’ He turned, regarding the pond, the ducks busily quarrelling amongst themselves. ‘Do the offerings please them, do you think? You bring the bread and gift it. What else do you bring?’ I did not think before responding. ‘It was strange. I thought bringing bread would be a benefit to them, but all I saw was greed. More

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