So far she’d resisted the urge to call him. There was only one HIM. The morning rolled on with a report of suspicious plastic window salesmen and the theft of a pair of designer jeans from a washing line overnight. According to the well-built lady victim, the item was a size ten. Shannon smiled. If that were true, it would have been many years since the lady had worn them. Human vanity never changed. In Brixton every hard man beaten in a fight had encountered at least a giant. She gave the lady a crime number for her insurance claim. It was unlikely that the insurance company would send anyone round with a tape measure. Who could verify anything? Was she herself just an entertainment while Spencer waited to marry Jasmine?
Her iPhone rang.
“I miss you,” he said.
“’Who are you? There are
