‘If he does for you, he’ll have to do for me,’ I said. ‘I’ll leave a letter with my solicitor, only to be opened at the time of my death. I’m sure he’ll listen to reason. He didn’t seem so bad as it happens.’
‘He’s not. Nick, I was in love.’
That can bring out the worst in us.
Or the best.
I wish.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘There’s a boozer round the corner from my gaff in Battersea. The Hanging Judge And Usher. Most just call it the Usher. It’s right by the court funnily enough. Everyone from the court and the Bill drink there. Safest place for miles. Guv’nor’s called Nigel. Lovely bloke. Bent as a nine bob note. He keeps things for me behind the jump. There’s an envelope with your name on it. Inside is a ticket for the left luggage at Waterloo Eurostar. Paid up for months, inside are two bags.
