“Yes, he’s
fine,” Patrick said.
They both paused,
glanced over their shoulder, and smiled ruefully at the other.
“No,” Lee said
back into the phone, his face hidden again. “I didn’t go back to mine last night.
I’m in a hotel. I couldn’t face it, you know? I wanted…” His shoulders tensed
up: Patrick could see the muscles tighten, then relax again. “Anyway, I need to
see the shop today—no, it’s fine—no, I don’t need any more bloody rest—yes.
Listen. Phiz! Stop talking for long enough to listen to me.”
Patrick winced.
“Hang on,” he said to Bryan. He swung his legs out of the bed and pulled on his
boxers and jeans. Then he padded to the bathroom. “Can you hear me in here?”
“Where are you?
Sounds like you’re in a bathroom.” Bryan’s voice had an edge of urgency. “I’ve
got Curtis here. He came to fetch me because there are some decisions needed
about the shop. Are you still at the hotel? Shall I come and fetch you—?”