‘I’m fine, Grid. I’ve been a bit stupid but, like I said, it’s over.’
He started rubbing his fingers and thumbs together.
‘Have you stopped smoking?’ I asked.
‘Uh-huh. You can’t smoke here anyway.’
‘No, but you used to prepare them for later. Whenever we sat down.’
His fingers stopped.
We sat in silence. His fingers twitched every now and again. Old habits die hard, I thought. I looked at my hands and saw they were doing the same, forming and reforming the classic climbing handholds. Pinching, crimping, gripping. I clenched them between my knees.
There was one last thing I needed to know before I could rule out Grid’s accident as the cause of the attacks on me.
‘How are Vince and Ricky? You said you were in their flat.’ I tried to sound casual.
‘Good. They’re in the States now. Yo
