"Not too bad," she mumbled. She knew she would have to climb down six storeys to get more water and that she would have to do it soon before the ciste...n, really the old basement, became too low and too murky, both because of its shallowness and because of the pig-selfish way some people flung their buckets in and stirred up the slime. Then she would have to wait another 24 hours till night allowed the ancient trickle of rusty water (from what toxic source?) to fill the tank again. Once she. Clinging to the jacket was an ecstatically bouncy Fern. But Connie didn’t need to be told that this newcomer was Danny’s father. He was a time-scarred double.Danny stepped up to her, and made the introduction, ”Connie, meet my father, John Whitley.”John Whitley stepped forward, same brown eyes, same smile, “Connie,” he said reaching for her hand, “I’m very pleased to meet you, and I understand I owe you a large thank you in helping my son to rescue Fern.” He raised her hand to his lips, before. More

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