'Are you sure about this?' Asher asked for the umpteenth time. 'We don't know what we're walking into.'
We were back at the Zoo's central picnic area; the first thing I noticed was a black cardigan laid out over the freshly mowed lawn. The garment was almost buried under a mountain of fallen cherry blossom petals as the tree above continued to shed its springtime coat.
A handbag was sat upturned on one of the park benches, with its contents sprawled all over the place. Even the stack of point vouchers remained suspiciously untouched.
'We know what's left here though. And the answer is, not that much.'
'You're not wrong,' Asher agreed reluctantly. Yanking up the shutters of the Motley Herd Cafe, he leapt over the counter to grab something. 'Catch.'
The meatball burrito fell into my hands, with the juices squeezing out the sides of the tin foil packaging.
