He’d seen the news about the second body and had e-mailed Megan about it but she hadn’t replied. Perhaps she’d been up all night. He wondered what sort of mood she’d be in when he got back. Probably not great, he reflected. She would give him a hug, flop onto the sofa and suggest whiskies in the bath and then bed. She might even be too tired to make love. Make love? What was he thinking of? Sex was going to be right out of the question when he’d delivered his little bombshell. Perhaps it would be better to wait until Saturday morning. Tell her after she’d had a good night’s sleep. He tried to persuade himself that would be the best course of action, realising even as he mulled it over that it would be himself he was putting first, not her. Because if he left it until tomorrow they would almost certainly make love. If not tonight then first thing in the morning. And that was what he wanted. More than anything. Because it would probably be the last time. * * * Megan was in her office before any of the rest of the staff had arrived.
