THE EVENING ENDED ALL too soon for Rafferty. Too late, he realised he had been so smitten by Estelle that he had swallowed wine like water. If he hadn’t, he could have offered to drive her home. But even in his current, alcohol-influenced rosy glow, something wiser than himself warned him not to court the attention of the traffic cops when he was being Nigel.
He sensed that Estelle could be important to him, important to his future. He knew he’d have to sort out the little discrepancy of his altered identity some time, just not yet; certainly not with a traffic cop breathing in his alcohol fumes while he demanded his name and papers.
It was getting on for midnight, already people were leaving. But Rafferty and Estelle deliberately lengthened the evening’s enchantment by going out through
