Tom sighed moodily, nudged a shell with his foot and glanced at his watch; he swore he could see the hands stop and shudder backwards. “Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath. He heard himself sigh again and swore, “Fuck, I sound like a bloody sixteen year old girl.” Bending, he scooped up a small stone feeling its smooth contours with the pad of his thumb before heaving it out to sea with a deep grunt. He hated being...