Chapter 8
I stared at the telephone that sat on the sofa table and worried my thumbnail. I’d just completed a call to Mr Trevalyan, partly to explain the wreck I’d made of this last assignment and partly to apologise for it.
The conversation had concluded with him more or less inviting himself to my flat to hear further explanations.
I raised my gaze from the phone and looked round my flat. It was small—bedroom, bath, lounge, and kitchen—but fortunately it was neat and tidy. Even though I’d been away for the past five years, NS3 had seen to it that a cleaning service came in once a month or so and dusted and mopped and whatever else was necessary.
What would Mr Trevalyan think of it?
I looked down at myself. I wore a pair of worn jeans, a cotton shirt that had seen better days, and tr
