As soon as she closed her eyes, her brain started throwing up lurid pictures of what the small, clean man had wanted in her flat and what he might do now that he’d been frustrated. The only way to stop that was to work, so she got up again to sort out her papers for tomorrow’s case in Maidstone. Then she phoned the social worker who would be in court with her. When they’d discussed the few points Trish needed to clarify, she said, ‘Sally, I’ve just heard that a child has run away from the Brakelys in Staplehurst. Do you know if—’ ‘It’s not Gavin, if that’s what’s worrying you,’ the social worker said quickly. ‘He’s doing really well, Trish.’ ‘Oh, I am glad. But are you sure he’s not at risk there?’ ‘Absolutely. You know, you’re almost the only lawyer I’ve ever come across who cares enough to remember a client like that after so long.’ ‘To be honest, I’ve hardly given him a thought since the case. But I came across the news in a quite different context, and it reminded me.’ ‘Ah, right.
