Wishing she HADN’T dunnit

Hattie sat in the dark at the wheel of her little red car and decided she might just hate the village, everything, and everyone in it – every man, woman, and blood-splattered child, the teeny-tiny shops, the little thatched cottages, the duck pond on the village green, the Lord of the Manor, the ‘Big House’,…

Feels like they’ve dunnit BEFORE.

Sergeant Carroll’s eyes narrowed as he watched the pretty brunette retrieve her phone from the floor and gather her bags and chattels around her once more, before shaking her hair from her eyes and shouldering her way through the door of the Post Office Cafe. Her body language suggested a big, overblown greeting in the…