Casey Faraday took a glass of white wine across to the window that looked out over the flagstoned patio. She took one sip of the Pinot Grigiot, then dropped the glass to the floor and screamed. By the time the others reached her Casey was crying hysterically, pointing out through the window.
Sheila grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘Casey, calm down. What’s wrong?’
Andrew Johnson followed the line of Casey’s pointing finger.
Eddie Farrant joined him, mouth open in astonishment, face draining rapidly of color. ‘Oh my God!’
They stared through the window at the patio. Tables and chairs had been overturned and umbrellas lay on their side, rocking gently back and forth in the afternoon breeze. In the center of the patio was Guy Lomax, but only his head, shoulders and right arm were visible; it was as if the rest of him had been swallowed by the patio, as if he had sunk into the flagstones.…