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‘Did something happen?’ Tim enters the office, looking concerned.

‘Nothing for you to worry about.’

‘It’s my job to worry. And if you’re not in Frankfurt, Miss Friedman is out there all alone –’

‘MsFriedman is not alone.’ Freddy rubs his forehead. ‘I called her aunts in the early hours of the morning and flew them out to look after her.’

Tim looks at the paperwork on Freddy’s desk. ‘So, you got the distribution deal with Penguin? Great stuff. But what’s that other paperwork for? It looks like you’re giving up your shares in Ms Friedman’s company.’

‘Yeah,’ says Freddy. ‘I’m selling up. Kat will be secure forever more now. All the systems are in place. The distribution deal. I’m signing over my half of the company at a peppercorn rate. This means Kat will have enough money to retire tomorrow if she wants to. Or not. It’s up to her.’

‘That’s … a very kind thing to do.’

‘Maybe I’m not the total arsehole people think I am.’

‘No one who works for you thinks you’re an arsehole. But you’re a business person, and you don’t usually give away shares. Especially when you’ve made a business so profitable, so quickly. Is this something to do with Miss Friedman?’ He gives an encouraging smile.

‘It’sallto do withMsFriedman,’ says Freddy. ‘I accidentally fell in love with her, Tim. And don’t start singing Counting Crows at me.’

Tim’s face lights up. ‘Oh Mr Stark, that’s just brilliant.’

‘No.’ Freddy gives his head a vehement shake. ‘It’s not. I can’t handle her illness any more than that loser ex-boyfriend of hers. I can’t take the pain, Tim. I’m pathetic, but I’ve made my peace with it.’

‘You’re not pathetic,’ says Tim. ‘It’s human to be scared. Love doesn’t come with guarantees.’

‘Whydoesn’t it?’ Freddy throws the expensive pen across the room. ‘Why did I have to fall for someone with a chronic illness? I can’t cope with it, Tim. I can’t handle building a life with her and then losing her.’

‘That’s what all of us have to risk.’ Tim gives Freddy’s arm a gentle pat. ‘Love means having something to lose.’

Out of nowhere, Freddy bursts into tears. It’s a horrible noise. Like a wounded sea lion. No wonder society says men shouldn’t cry. It soundsodd. There’s no other word for it.

‘I walked out on her, Tim. Ilefther. The first woman I’ve ever truly loved.’ Freddy gives a choked laugh. ‘I couldn’t cope with being so close.’

‘So go back and tell her you’re sorry –’

‘Are you kidding me? Have you met Katerina? She’s probably sharpening pencils as we speak, ready to stab my eyeballs and other areas. I’ve blown it. The only thing I can do is make sure she’s taken care of financially. And to that end, I want you to sell all of the Big Voice shares to her at £1 a share.’

Tim blinks at him. ‘£1 a share would be …’

‘Blimey, Tim. I thought you had to know basic maths to join the army. Fifty quid.’

‘With this distribution deal in place, those shares must be worth over a million,’ says Tim. ‘How’s that for basic maths?’

‘You heard me, Tim. £1 a share. And buy me another zero-gravity pen. I think I just broke that one.’

CHAPTER68

London feels utterly grey and miserable on my return, despite strings of Christmas lights appearing along Oxford Street. I ask the taxi driver to stop at a supermarket so I can buy yellow food, alcohol and painkillers. When I reach my front door, I am laden with suitcases and unhealthy groceries.

My flare-up is remitting, the only lingering sign being a stiff hip and the tinsel-covered crutch strapped to my wheelie suitcase. But I’m still in a world of pain. It’s just this time, the pain is emotional.

After humping my suitcases out of the taxi, I stand on the curb, looking up at my dark house, knowing it will be freezing and empty inside. God, I hope the boiler … wait. Who’s that on my doorstep?

I move closer, my stiff hip making me undulate like Marilyn Monroe.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Chris perches by my front door in corduroy jeans and trainers, holding a bottle of red wine. He appears to have had a haircut and a beard trim but still has the air of a French tramp about him.