“And hang bloody Normanby!”
“I fully intend to,” Sir Guy said. “It’s your evidence that will do it.”
Carmichael shook his hand at the top of the stairs. The sun was shining from a sky dotted with puffy white clouds; it was another beautiful spring day. He supposed he could call for a car for the last time, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t know where he wanted to go. Home would seem very empty without Jack, even if England was taking her first tottering steps towards being free again. He waved to Sir Guy and walked away in the sunshine up the dirty London street.
Jo Walton, Small Change 03: Half A Crown
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