Chapter 92

“And I need a lift. My car broke down last night. Bloody thing.”

Paul opened the door wider to admit his guest.

“Any chance of a fry up? I’m starving.”

“What’s wrong with your own kitchen?”

“No clean pots. And I’m out of bacon.” Thommo pushed past him and headed for the kitchen and started to open cupboards.

“Oi! Leave my kitchen alone. Five minutes and it’ll end up looking like yours.”

Thommo stepped back. “All right, you do the cooking, then. Bloody hell, you weren’t this house-proud before you stayed with that poof.”

Instantly Paul’s lethargy left him. The next thing he knew, he had Thommo up against the pantry door. “One more comment like that and it’ll be a hospital breakfast you’ll be eating.”

“Hey!”

Paul released his friend. “I’m just warning you. Trevor’s all right.”

Thommo looked as though he was going to give a sarcastic reply, but one look at Paul’s determined face made him reconsider.

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