Around eleven on the Saturday morning, a week after the game shoot, George rang my private line.
“Sophie"s done the impossible, Harry! She"s found the location of one of the remaining photos and what"s more, the fate of,” I abruptly cut him short of finishing.
“Not on this line, George. I can"t be sure it"s not compromised after that intrusion I told you of. If it"s not raining where you are, the heavens opened up here about an hour ago, got caught in it while out riding with Serena. I haven"t long been out of a hot bath. Anyway, call me from that phone box in Hobart Place in a few hours" time, say five pm, that should give me enough time to buy another mobile in Harrogate. What we"ll do is use Sophie"s phone as our contact number. I"ll message her the number of the pay-as-you-go one whe
