Chapter Seven
Then
“I can’t believe you want to discuss this… here,” Timothy berated me in hushed tones after a pleasant blonde girl in her teens had cleared away the plates containing the remnants of his Full-English-Breakfast and my scrambled eggs.
With a hand I indicated the empty tables around us. We were in the food-hall on the bottom level of the House of Fraser and it was surprisingly empty for a Saturday morning. The nearest diners to us were three tables away and I knew – as he knew – that we were unlikely to be overheard.
“We’re going to have to discuss it sometime,” I told him. “May as well do it here. Unless, that is, you want to take the chance of us being overheard by my mother and the girls at home.”
“I don’t see as we have to discuss it at all,” he said with some asper
