She sighed and flopped back on the bed. She was so hyped up about the TV program that she hadn’t given Peter a thought. But by the time he came back into the room she was sitting cross-legged, with that tomboyish grin he liked so much. For a moment he thought it was for him, but then she clapped her hands.

“I am going to nail him, Pete, I know it!”

“I’m going to the pub, see you later.”

When Peter got home she was asleep. He stumbled around the bedroom in the dark, cursing as he stubbed his toe. Past caring if he woke her up, he threw himself into bed and thumped his pillow.

Half-asleep, she rolled towards him and muttered, “I’m sorry, Pete, but I get so tired . . .”

He looked at her shadowy face, then drew her into his arms. “You’re gonna have to start making time for us, Jane, you hear me?”

“Mmmm, yeah, I know . . . and I will.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes. I love you, Pete.”

She was asleep again, her head resting on his shoulder. He eased her gently back to her side of the bed and then turned over. He was more than worried about his business, and he needed the deal with Frank King to come off. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep afloat for much longer, he’d be bankrupt.

Moyra eased the bedroom curtain aside. She could see the small red dot of a police officer’s cigarette. There were two of them; bored with sitting in the car they were taking a breather, walking around the estate. She let the curtain fall back into place.

“There’s two of them still prowling around outside, George!”

Marlow lay face down on the bed, his naked body draped in a sheet that just covered his buttocks. He was lean, taut, muscular.

He banged his pillow. “Just ignore them.”

“It’s tough, they’re outside day and night, and I know there’s another two in the flat opposite us. I’ve seen them, I know they’re cops, and they’ve got a camera.”

“You’d think they’d have better things to do with ratepayers’ money.”

“Yeah, but it makes my skin crawl. And her from next door is in and out, talking to everyone! I feel everybody looking at me when I go out. Bastards, this is harrassment! I’d like to get them, the bastards. Why?”

“They’ve got nothing better to do. It’s the way they work, look at the way they treated me over that other business. They stitched me up over that! I just hope to God they find some other sucker and lay off us.”

“You hope! Jesus Christ, am I going nuts?”

“Then come here . . . Take your dressing gown off and come to bed.”

Moyra slipped off her Marks and Sparks satin robe. It was sexy, like the old film stars used to wear. Beneath it was a matching nightdress with thin ribbon straps.