Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

I’d been a fool. But everybody was a fool in love, weren’t they?

He pushed his glasses up his nose as he held up two boarding passes from the trip to Paris. ‘So this plane ticket to Paris, it says you flew from Gatwick, but you came back to Liverpool?’

‘Yes, he had business in Paris so I flew back alone.’

‘But you went to London and flew to Paris with him?’

‘Yes. We stayed somewhere in London the night before. A flat in Fulham.’

Anthony’s eyes lit up. ‘Whose flat? His flat?’

‘He said it was his friend’s flat. There was hardly anything in it. It was really sparse and unlived-in. Nice and trendy but… unlived-in. We were only there overnight anyway. I can’t remember the address. Patrick met me at Euston train station.’

I sorted through the papers until I found the train ticket. Anthony picked it up and looked at it.

‘But you can’t give me an address? Not even the name of a road?’

‘No. Sorry.’

‘Can you remember any landmarks? Was it near a tube station?’ He got up from the sofa and went to get his laptop from the dining table.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

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