and Andy and the millions of questions she'd have to face. ‘No,’ she said weakly. ‘Not there either.’
Jane thought of her flat that she'd had to give up. She thought of the photographer that had waited outside to catch her when she and Ashby had split up. She wanted to go home. Not to Polly's flat, but home. Somewhere she could just hide from the world and sleep. Tears filled her eyes.
‘Tell you what,’ said Marsh after a moment's silence. ‘Why don't we go to my place? I'll make you a nice cup of tea and you can phone the police from there.’
That wasn't home either, but the idea appealed. Jane wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked up at him.
‘No funny business,’ he said, putting his hands up in front of him. ‘I promise.’
She didn't doubt that he meant it. So she nodded.
He pulled a mobile out of his hoodie pocket and made the call.
Chapter Seven
Marsh was still in his running shorts. Even bundled up in several layers of clothing, Jane was still feeling cold. He must have been freezing. The taxi pulled up at what looked like an old school in a quiet side street.
Marsh led her into the house and up what seemed like endless stairs. On the third floor, he opened one of the doors leading off the landing and stepped aside to let Jane enter.
As he went round, flicking on lights, Jane stared. Despite the building's Victorian exterior, the flat was very modern. The room had a high ceiling and enormous windows down one side. The décor was warm reds and creamy yellows. Marsh hurried around the room, scooping up items that had been left lying around.
Jane watched him, bemused.
‘I wasn't expecting visitors.’ He dropped everything into a drawer under the coffee table. ‘Take a seat. I'll put the kettle on.’
The flat didn't look like a bachelor pad. There were photos on the walls and floral cushions on the sofa. She did see evidence of Marsh living there, though. A pile of paper and patent books was stacked on the dining table, a jumper was thrown over the back of a chair and a full set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs sat on a shelf.
Jane pulled a bar stool up to the small breakfast bar that separated the kitchen area from the dining table. Against the wall were one haphazardly balanced stack of mountain biking and running magazines and, behind it, a neat pile of Cosmo . Jane stared at it. What kind of a man read Cosmo ?
Marsh saw her looking at them. ‘Oh, they're not mine. They're Stevie's. You should report your mugging to the police. You'll need a crime number for cancelling your credit cards.’
She would need to remember what had been in her bag. ‘Have you got a piece of paper? And a pen?’
He went back to making tea whilst she tried to remember all her purse had contained.
‘Here you go.’ He set a mug of tea in front of her. ‘I'm sure I had some biscuits,’ he said, as he opened one cupboard after another. ‘Ah, here we are.’ He pulled down a packet of digestives and put them in front of her as well. ‘Now, will you be Ok for a few minutes?’
‘ Yes, sure.’ She wrapped her hands round the mug of tea, immediately feeling a little better. She smiled at him.
‘ In that case, I'll just go and get changed into something warmer.’
‘ Would it be Ok if I phoned my flatmate. She'll be wondering where I am.’
‘ Of course. Phone whoever you want to.’ He gave a quick smile and left the room.
Jane waited until she heard another door close and quickly punched in Polly's number, thankful that she knew it by heart. ‘Hi Pol, it's me,’ she said when Polly answered.
‘ Jane, where are you? I've been trying to call you, but you didn't answer your phone. I was starting to get worried.’
‘ I'm fine,’ said Jane. ‘My phone got nicked …’
‘ What? How?’
‘ I … er … I got mugged.’ It seemed too weird to say that. Until now, muggings were something that happened to other people, like winning the lottery. It seemed strange to be the
Jane thought of her flat that she'd had to give up. She thought of the photographer that had waited outside to catch her when she and Ashby had split up. She wanted to go home. Not to Polly's flat, but home. Somewhere she could just hide from the world and sleep. Tears filled her eyes.
‘Tell you what,’ said Marsh after a moment's silence. ‘Why don't we go to my place? I'll make you a nice cup of tea and you can phone the police from there.’
That wasn't home either, but the idea appealed. Jane wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked up at him.
‘No funny business,’ he said, putting his hands up in front of him. ‘I promise.’
She didn't doubt that he meant it. So she nodded.
He pulled a mobile out of his hoodie pocket and made the call.
Chapter Seven
Marsh was still in his running shorts. Even bundled up in several layers of clothing, Jane was still feeling cold. He must have been freezing. The taxi pulled up at what looked like an old school in a quiet side street.
Marsh led her into the house and up what seemed like endless stairs. On the third floor, he opened one of the doors leading off the landing and stepped aside to let Jane enter.
As he went round, flicking on lights, Jane stared. Despite the building's Victorian exterior, the flat was very modern. The room had a high ceiling and enormous windows down one side. The décor was warm reds and creamy yellows. Marsh hurried around the room, scooping up items that had been left lying around.
Jane watched him, bemused.
‘I wasn't expecting visitors.’ He dropped everything into a drawer under the coffee table. ‘Take a seat. I'll put the kettle on.’
The flat didn't look like a bachelor pad. There were photos on the walls and floral cushions on the sofa. She did see evidence of Marsh living there, though. A pile of paper and patent books was stacked on the dining table, a jumper was thrown over the back of a chair and a full set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs sat on a shelf.
Jane pulled a bar stool up to the small breakfast bar that separated the kitchen area from the dining table. Against the wall were one haphazardly balanced stack of mountain biking and running magazines and, behind it, a neat pile of Cosmo . Jane stared at it. What kind of a man read Cosmo ?
Marsh saw her looking at them. ‘Oh, they're not mine. They're Stevie's. You should report your mugging to the police. You'll need a crime number for cancelling your credit cards.’
She would need to remember what had been in her bag. ‘Have you got a piece of paper? And a pen?’
He went back to making tea whilst she tried to remember all her purse had contained.
‘Here you go.’ He set a mug of tea in front of her. ‘I'm sure I had some biscuits,’ he said, as he opened one cupboard after another. ‘Ah, here we are.’ He pulled down a packet of digestives and put them in front of her as well. ‘Now, will you be Ok for a few minutes?’
‘ Yes, sure.’ She wrapped her hands round the mug of tea, immediately feeling a little better. She smiled at him.
‘ In that case, I'll just go and get changed into something warmer.’
‘ Would it be Ok if I phoned my flatmate. She'll be wondering where I am.’
‘ Of course. Phone whoever you want to.’ He gave a quick smile and left the room.
Jane waited until she heard another door close and quickly punched in Polly's number, thankful that she knew it by heart. ‘Hi Pol, it's me,’ she said when Polly answered.
‘ Jane, where are you? I've been trying to call you, but you didn't answer your phone. I was starting to get worried.’
‘ I'm fine,’ said Jane. ‘My phone got nicked …’
‘ What? How?’
‘ I … er … I got mugged.’ It seemed too weird to say that. Until now, muggings were something that happened to other people, like winning the lottery. It seemed strange to be the
Similar Books
