‘I saw you taking photos. How could you do that? Don’t you have any sense of propriety?’
‘It’s my job,’ she said, on a defensive note. ‘I write for the local paper.’
His expression was cynical. ‘Is that supposed to be an excuse? Don’t we have enough people behaving like ghouls, feasting on other people’s tragedies?’
‘You don’t know anything about the way I write,’ she said, her voice taut. ‘Why should you assume the worst?’ She glowered at him. ‘Anyway, shouldn’t you be concerning yourself with your patients?’
‘You’re right.’ He glanced over at the ambulance where the paramedic was getting ready to close the doors at the back of the vehicle. ‘I can see that I’m just wasting my time talking to you.’
He walked briskly over to the ambulance and climbed in the back without a second glance in her direction.
Sarah watched the vehicle pull away, aware of a slow tide of dejection washing over her. How would he react when he discovered that she was going to be living next door to him? He had already formed the worst possible opinion of her.
She pressed her lips together. Most likely, once he was over the initial shock, he would simply leave her to her own devices.
That suited Sarah well enough. She had enough problems to cope with, without having to fathom the mindset of a reclusive neighbour.
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