'Well, yes, and no. Time moves strangely here, doesn't it?'

The image of walking through the doors of the Railway Arms, and then re-emerging here appears. What happened between is fuzzy, fog and bright lights.

'I've been holing up in my room, trying to deal with the whole -- being dead thing.' She tries to keep her voice light, and she keeps looking back at the gentleman seated at the end of the bar, determinedly drinking his Scotch with a bit of a frown as she talks.

'Don't mind him. He's just keeping an eye out for me.'

The thoughts that ripple across her mind are one of a fierce protectiveness, trust and affection. Deep currents run there.

'Anyway, that's why you probably haven't seen me around.'