NINETEEN

STOKE MANDEVILLE—APRIL

“It wasn’t a success.” Roger Goodhart was talking of his first spell at home.

“Why?” Duncan sensed the answer.

“She was cold, remote. She made no secret that she found me repulsive. With this set-back in my condition and my being stuck here, I think the gulf’s widening. Probably forever.”

“We’ll see. You could be wide of the mark.” Duncan doubted it.

The client, who had lost weight badly over the past few months, and whose legs hung thin in the trousers, looked hard at his solicitor. “I’ll tell you this; you must get me the damages. A big award may just persuade Alice to put up with me. Damages could change our life-style. You may have noticed she’s a shocking social climber.”

“I guessed. By the way, I am sorry to say that there was nil response to my advert for drivers of black vans. I meant to tell you. But we’ve had some fun and games following Bouchin which may be useful. And this lorry driver from Newcastle! Wally Wood’s statement is dynamite. I called in to see him when I was on my way up to Murrayfield for the International.”

“What did he say?”

“If you pour me out a beer I’ll tell you.”