“You must have been off your head, Lina – mustn’t she?’ Marcus was almost squeaking in disbelief. It was nothing to my squeak when he’d turned up on the doorstep, at exactly the same time as Tony. So much for a sexy evening. They got on so well they could have managed without me, except that I was cooking supper, which they were now waiting for, drinking Beck’s from bottles while I toiled. Griff would have danced round producing, with a twiddle here and a tweak there, a pretty and a tasty me...al. I was relying on the recipes he’d dictated to me as he cooked them: spelling had never been my strongest point, and I sometimes I couldn’t tell whether I needed a teaspoon or a tablespoonful of something. And with ginger or chilli I reckoned it mattered. ‘It’s certainly not the safest thing to do. Especially if Bossingham’s a mobile black spot. And without telling anyone – you really were putting yourself at risk. Look, I’ve got some leaflets back at the station about how to take care of yourself – the Suzy Lamplugh Trust –’ ‘It’s all right.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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