31
It was just after seven when the door of the middle terrace opened and Michael appeared, still buttoning up a dress shirt under the unzipped jacket he wore. As he reached the gate that opened onto the road, Slim stood up straight from where he had been leaning against the waist-high stone wall that fronted the three council houses.
‘Hey, Michael,’ he said. ‘I was wondering if you could help me. It’s Friday, right? If I wanted to hit a club, would it be better to go to Camelford or Bude?’
Michael stared at him with his brow bunched into a frown. ‘Are you stalking me? How did you know where I live?’
‘Not hard when people are so willing to talk,’ Slim said as Michael came through the gate and walked up to him. It made him feel bad to admit it, but something about Michael got under his
