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I looked out across the moor.
There wasn’t much to see. Yellowish, springy grass. Clumps of heather and gorse. Small pools stained brown by peat.
This was my first time up here alone. Dad didn’t like me coming up here at all, even if he was with me.
But Dad had been called back to London – something urgent at work, he said – and then Mum had got sick. The doctor said it was a virus, which is wha…
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