MORAG WAS WAITING FOR me at the bar with a cold beer and a warm smile. All I’d ever wanted from life. But the vodka and the music hadn’t quite managed to wipe my memory clean. Cold hard reality started to peel back the edges of the safety blanket I’d tossed over it, insisting that I stare into its unflinching eyes once again.
“Let’s go,” she said.
But there was nowhere to go. Nowhere I could get away from what she’d told me earlier. Another one down. Another victim. Another statistic. Another light extinguished. Another brick.
“Come home with me. I’m watching Charmaine’s flat for her. There’s beer in the fridge.”
“Can’t. Got work to do.”
I could hear that my words were starting to slur slightly. As if I was speaking in cursive. Still intelligible, but unavoidably less crisp than they’
