Chapter 41

So he shrugged into sweatpants, a tee shirt and hoodie, and loped downstairs.

His cafe was as

quiet as it ever was, first thing in the morning, even though it was in the

centre of Soho and the habitual twenty four hour London life continued

regardless on the streets outside. At this early hour, however, there were few

travellers or tourists to hang around outside the shops, even at With A Kick,

with its tempting menu of alcoholic ice cream. With barely a glimpse around the

cafe area—he’d deal with setting up for the day’s business when he got back—he

let himself out of the shop and went for a jog.

Patrick liked

this time of morning in London. It was still too cold in February to do without

a jacket and scarf, but otherwise he savoured the onset of spring and the pale,

bright sun that glistened off the pavements. He took deep, regular breaths,

measuring a circular route around Shaftesbury Avenue and Charing Cross Road,