He stood in the carpark behind his flat, his mobile pressed to his right ear, walking up and down beside the cab. There was a pleasant chill in the air, birds were chirping, and the initial signs of a nice day were emerging. Jack counted the number of missing and broken palings in the back fence as he waited for Matt to pick up. The sleepy, disoriented voice that finally came on the line suggested that Matt had had a big night out. ‘Who is it?’ he groaned. ‘Jack. Mate, you’ve got …’ ‘Hang on. Time is it?’ ‘Bit before seven. You’ve got to tell me what’s going on! I’ve landed in the middle of some fucking drug gang war or something, all because of you! Got whacked in the pub last night, huge blue happened. Rowan’s mate laid into me. What’s the story?’ Jack could sense the rising hysteria in his own voice. ‘Okay, okay, cool it. Jack, stay calm, it’s going to be okay.
