by Allison Symes
Irish coffeeWhere the hell was he now? Goodness knew his sat nav had sent him in some strange directions in her time. He still hadn't forgiven her for trying to send him the wrong way up a slip road. She'd told him the way so nicely too. Well, she wasn't catching him out with her tricks again. No way! He'd been checking the route before setting off. If her route didn't match hers, tough. Like Sinatra, he would do it his way.
He thought back. Yes, he'd been looking for The Oak as he used pubs as landmarks. What he had found was a horse chestnut.He grimaced. He could've sworn he'd only winged it but that dent in his Audi would take some shifting. Still, that could be sorted out later.
Gloomy place this, he thought. Won't get many visitors until they tart the place up a bit.
He sniffed. There was a distinct smell of rotten eggs. Oh yes, that would be the sulphur. Now if he could only figure out where the hell he was, he would move on.
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