‘RIGHT,’ RAFFERTY SAID, several hours later, breaking the silence. ‘You’ve got the girls’ address?’
‘Sir.’
‘Let’s get over there, then. Give you a chance to get over your sulks.’
‘I was busy. You do tend to put a large proportion of the paperwork on my shoulders.’
That was undoubtedly true.
‘Only because you’re so much quicker. My typing skills. Duh!’ He’d got that “duh!” from reading Abra’s f*******: page over her shoulder. At least Llewellyn looked slightly mollified at the admission.
‘You could take a touch-typing course.’
Rafferty was tempted to say, “Why keep a dog and bark yourself?” But he didn’t want a return to the sulks, so he just smiled and said, ‘Could I? Good idea, Daff. I’ll look into it.’
‘As it happens, I was going to study Greek history, and got the literature fro
