At around two he had tried to call Jemma but experience had cut through the alcohol and at the last second he had hit the cancel button. He waited until he thought he was sober enough, and she was about to leave for school. His throat felt as if it had been scrubbed with raw chillies. ‘Jem.’ ‘I’m rushing, Harry.’ ‘They arrested me again yesterday.’ That stopped her in her tracks. ‘Are you . . .?’ ‘No, they let me go.’ ‘What do you need?’ ‘First thing, to know that you still care. That’s very important to me right now.’ ‘I care. Of course I bloody care, otherwise this wouldn’t all be hurting so much. And you sound like crap. Have you been drowning your sorrows?’ ‘And second—’ ‘Somehow I knew it wasn’t going to be as simple as they arrested you on suspicion of murder. Why should it be simple, just because it’s the last week of term?’ ‘I’m trying to find a woman.’ ‘Never needed my help for that before.’ ‘No, a special woman, a specific woman.’ Damn, he was making a mess of this.
