sound. Fox put up a hell of a fight but he gave in, in the end. It’s ironic – he was one of the prime movers to get me out of the force and now we’re on the same side. If anything happens to me the pictures will make an appearance, as public an appearance as possible. I don’t like the way it’s turned out, but without those photos I’m in a lot of trouble.’
‘Were you badly hurt?’ she asked.
‘You saw the scars,’ I said.
‘And I thought I was the only one who was fucked up,’ she said. ‘There’s a lot of it about.’
‘Why did you get so involved? Why didn’t you just walk away? You had every chance.’
‘To make up for all the times I did walk away,’ I said, ‘when it was my job not to. All the times I just let things go because it was easy to turn a blind eye. I knew if I didn’t do something I was finished.’
She came and sat on my knee and kissed me.
‘Do you want me to go?’ I asked.
‘Go? Why?’
‘Because I’m involved in dirty business sometimes.’
‘No, Nick, I don’t want you to go. I love you.’
‘Say that again,’ I said.
‘I love you.’
We held each other like drowning people being swept through white water. We held each other until we were dizzy. Eventually we came up for air.
‘What shall we do?’ she asked naughtily.
‘It’s still early,’ I said. ‘I think we should go back to bed for an hour or so.’
‘What a good idea,’ she said, ‘I am feeling quite tired.’
‘You can sleep,’ I said, ‘I’ve got other ideas.’
‘You’re disgusting.’
‘Just how disgusting I hope you’ll find out over the next few days.’
14
W e spent Sunday and Monday together. I was falling for Jo faster than a kid going down a fairground slide, and I have to tell you I was enjoying it twice as much. I had that kind of self-confidence that only pure stupidity breeds. I could see her relaxing too and she looked good.
On Sunday evening we wrapped up warmly and went to town. We wandered around the West End looking at the sights before we ate. By the time she’d got tired of looking at lumps of old masonry we were both cold and hungry and we found a little Italian place north of Soho with red checked tablecloths and waiters with eyes full of lechery and mouths full of wet, white teeth.
We both had spaghetti with clams and too much thin white wine that tasted of sunshine and grape skins.
As we sat over cappuccino I stole another of her cigarettes.
‘Skip school tomorrow,’ I said.
‘You’re a bad influence.’
‘Not so bad – you seem to be quite happy.’
‘I am,’ she replied.
‘So skip school.’
‘It isn’t school, it’s university, brother, and it’s important.’
She did take the day off and even though it was still cold the sun shone, and after I’d checked on Cat and her offspring Jo and I took the Jaguar down to Brighton for the day. She loved the town and we strolled along the front watching the sea smash over the pebbles.
‘One day all that will be sand,’ she said.
‘It’ll take a while,’ I remarked.
‘Only a million or so years.’
‘And when it is I’ll still love you,’ I said.
‘You big jerk,’ she said.
I grinned against the cold breeze and held her tightly. Somewhere under all the layers of clothing she wore her body was soft and warm.
‘OK, I don’t love you at all,’ I said.
‘Don’t say that. I can’t bear it.’
‘Now who’s a jerk?’ I asked.
She was crying and I caught the tears on her cheeks with the pad of my thumb.
‘Blowy, isn’t it?’ she asked.
I just smiled and she buried her head into my shoulder like a child.
We lunched in The Lanes and she bought expensive junk in every shop we passed. Which was plenty.
‘This is the most expensive place in England to buy stuff like that,’ I explained, ‘apart from Bond Street. You’re crazy.’
‘These are gifts for the folks back home. Italian businessmen and their wives are very big in antiques. Those women will have
‘Were you badly hurt?’ she asked.
‘You saw the scars,’ I said.
‘And I thought I was the only one who was fucked up,’ she said. ‘There’s a lot of it about.’
‘Why did you get so involved? Why didn’t you just walk away? You had every chance.’
‘To make up for all the times I did walk away,’ I said, ‘when it was my job not to. All the times I just let things go because it was easy to turn a blind eye. I knew if I didn’t do something I was finished.’
She came and sat on my knee and kissed me.
‘Do you want me to go?’ I asked.
‘Go? Why?’
‘Because I’m involved in dirty business sometimes.’
‘No, Nick, I don’t want you to go. I love you.’
‘Say that again,’ I said.
‘I love you.’
We held each other like drowning people being swept through white water. We held each other until we were dizzy. Eventually we came up for air.
‘What shall we do?’ she asked naughtily.
‘It’s still early,’ I said. ‘I think we should go back to bed for an hour or so.’
‘What a good idea,’ she said, ‘I am feeling quite tired.’
‘You can sleep,’ I said, ‘I’ve got other ideas.’
‘You’re disgusting.’
‘Just how disgusting I hope you’ll find out over the next few days.’
14
W e spent Sunday and Monday together. I was falling for Jo faster than a kid going down a fairground slide, and I have to tell you I was enjoying it twice as much. I had that kind of self-confidence that only pure stupidity breeds. I could see her relaxing too and she looked good.
On Sunday evening we wrapped up warmly and went to town. We wandered around the West End looking at the sights before we ate. By the time she’d got tired of looking at lumps of old masonry we were both cold and hungry and we found a little Italian place north of Soho with red checked tablecloths and waiters with eyes full of lechery and mouths full of wet, white teeth.
We both had spaghetti with clams and too much thin white wine that tasted of sunshine and grape skins.
As we sat over cappuccino I stole another of her cigarettes.
‘Skip school tomorrow,’ I said.
‘You’re a bad influence.’
‘Not so bad – you seem to be quite happy.’
‘I am,’ she replied.
‘So skip school.’
‘It isn’t school, it’s university, brother, and it’s important.’
She did take the day off and even though it was still cold the sun shone, and after I’d checked on Cat and her offspring Jo and I took the Jaguar down to Brighton for the day. She loved the town and we strolled along the front watching the sea smash over the pebbles.
‘One day all that will be sand,’ she said.
‘It’ll take a while,’ I remarked.
‘Only a million or so years.’
‘And when it is I’ll still love you,’ I said.
‘You big jerk,’ she said.
I grinned against the cold breeze and held her tightly. Somewhere under all the layers of clothing she wore her body was soft and warm.
‘OK, I don’t love you at all,’ I said.
‘Don’t say that. I can’t bear it.’
‘Now who’s a jerk?’ I asked.
She was crying and I caught the tears on her cheeks with the pad of my thumb.
‘Blowy, isn’t it?’ she asked.
I just smiled and she buried her head into my shoulder like a child.
We lunched in The Lanes and she bought expensive junk in every shop we passed. Which was plenty.
‘This is the most expensive place in England to buy stuff like that,’ I explained, ‘apart from Bond Street. You’re crazy.’
‘These are gifts for the folks back home. Italian businessmen and their wives are very big in antiques. Those women will have
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