The Mr Sleeman bit spelt trouble, big time. ‘No, but I feel slightly out-numbered here. If you want to ask me questions, I want to know in what cont...xt you’re asking them. It’s not often that I get woken up at…’ I looked at the clock. ‘Shit, it’s five o’clock. What the hell’s so fucking important that you’ve got to wake me at this time of the bloody morning?’ ‘I’m making enquiries concerning your wife’s accident.’ ‘What fucking accident?’ ‘Your wife was involved in an accident last night and I. Forget about the people that worked under her at her retail job not listening, having to tell them repeatedly how to do even the most facile tasks. She didn’t want to have any power for a day, an hour, a minute. She wanted a release.She went out and found one.She didn’t remember his name, because she didn’t ask, but it was Marcus, the captain of the weightlifting team. She walked up to him. He was standing outside, leaning against his car, texting someone. He looked up, at her. “What’s. More

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