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I felt like I was seventy years old with severe arthritis and a hangover that was the result of a three-day drinking binge so the last thing I needed was any rough stuff.
I'd dumped my bags on the sofa as you do and was just heading for the kitchen to make coffee before falling into bed when I heard a key scrape in the lock.
" I looked at her, all righteous indignation, in a short black skirt and thick black tights; red silk blouse, black leather jacket and gloves and I couldn't help feeling a faint flicker somewhere, despite the way I felt. " I realised now that she had used Linda's old key. She lowered her eyes and her voice," And if you remember you always used to be up by six! She looked at me hard for a moment her lower jaw jutting and I think that if she had been able to then she would have slapped me but instead she turned her back on me and stuck out her cuffed hands. And DO NOT give me any bollocks about losing the key because I know that that's the one area of your life where you are bloody organised, so get on with it!I watched her stump over to the lifts, watched her big legs in those black pantyhose that she always wore.Everybody else wore tights but for some reason I always associated Barbara with pantyhose and always wondered how she might look in just them and her big black bra…I darted forward, grabbed their hands, and pulled them roughly behind them.As quickly as I could I slipped the standard, Metropolitan Police issue handcuffs onto a pair of slim wrists and heard the satisfying sound of the ratchets clicking smoothly into place.
I waited, the anticipation fluttering in my stomach, hardly daring to breath in case I was heard.