‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens. ” Anna handed her a bracelet she had made out of string and macaroni. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. She had often wondered if Hoddy would ever go back to it.
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