He didn’t move away. She breathed in the very faint whiff of body odour, the lingering hint of his aftershave and wanted to ask when she’d see him again, pressing her lips together to stop the words escaping. They weren’t teenagers, she was old enough to have sense, to know that she should take it slowly, to have learnt how to play the damn game after so many years.

‘You free on Friday?’

Friday. Two days away. The day after the next day. Of course she was free. She was about to say she was when it dawned on her that she didn’t know. It was her weekend to work, a horrendous three twelve-hour shifts back-to-back Friday to Sunday. But that depended on that morning’s meeting. What was it Flynn had said? That it was a big to-do about nothing. If he was right, she’d be working on Friday and too exhausted to do anything afterward, not with a twelve-hour shift the next day. ‘It depends on how the meeting goes today,’ she said. ‘If it goes well, I’ll be working all weekend.’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘in that case, you’ll be working.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘Knock ’em dead today. I’ll ring you after my meeting and we can plan to meet up next week.’

With another kiss, this time firmly on her lips, he was gone.

Jodie stood at the door waving till he was out of sight. It was something her mother used to do, stand at their garden gate every morning and wave as Jodie went off to school. The memory made her smile. She stood there until a man passing on the other side of the street shot her a strange look, then wrapping her robe tighter about her, she stepped back and shut the door.

7

Victor had been standing around the corner of the church on Wilfred Street watching Jodie’s house when he saw the man come out and he immediately recognised him as the same man she’d met in the café on Tuesday. Irritatingly handsome, annoyingly overconfident, he strode down the street with the kind of self-assured arrogance that made Victor want to heave. He guessed they’d met a few times since the café, fornicating in animal lust while he was busy making plans.

When the man was out of view, Victor strolled down the street on the opposite side. He saw Jodie in the doorway, oblivious to his regard. Her robe was partially undone, hair unbrushed, lips slightly swollen from a night of passion. His nose twitched – he swore he could smell the stink of sex polluting the air as he walked past. In his pockets, his hands clenched into fists.

Oh, but she’d learn, he thought, reaching the end of the road.