Free Fit Up by Faith Clifford

direction. The days were busier and Jeremy’s name was getting around for the right reasons. I felt relieved at this upturn in our fortunes, not least because I knew that while he was occupied he would not be ringing me for support every five minutes, meaning I could concentrate on my own work. It had occurred to me that I had attended far too many meetings in recent months where my mind had tended to drift, to the point that if I was asked a question, I realised that I had not been paying attention.
    I think I winged most of it successfully and John had intervened at some of the awkward times. This embarrassed me because I hated to be ‘carried’, but he told me not to worry and that since I had only started my job at the beginning of 2003, I had made good progress. I knew we would not sleep much the night before the return to bail so we spent a lot of time talking or just watching television. Jeremy said that Hamilton would meet him at Watford Police Station at 9.30 a.m. to have a chat before the appointed time of 10 a.m. with Hopkins. He was not worried about having to close the shop as Julie had changed her hours and would cover until he got back. Obviously, he had not told her the real reason he needed to be out the next day. In the light cast by the flickering television I could see Jeremy had finally succumbed to sleep. Having nodded off intermittently at first I finally got a few hours of shut-eye before the alarm went off at 7 a.m. Feeling a little jaded, we both got up, kind of reluctantly, to the start of an uncertain day. We bothsat down to a light breakfast before I left for work, giving Jeremy a hug and kiss, wishing him good luck and asking him to ring me when he could. As I reversed out of the drive, Jeremy stood at the front door to watch me go. With his hands in both pockets, shoulders hunched, dark circles under his eyes, he cut a sad figure.
    No matter how hard I tried, I could not take my mind off Jeremy. I spent time walking through the vast building, looking around all three floors and finding some peace in the basement. Time seemed to go by so slowly and I lost count of the times I had looked at my watch waiting for 10 a.m. to come. However, when it finally came, there was another target. How long would it be before Jeremy called me? I went back to my desk, made tea for everyone and decided to at least try to look like I was working. Midday arrived and I had to leave my desk to cover the receptionist while she had her lunch and, although my stomach was in knots, I was surprised to find that I was hungry. Eventually I made my way to the restaurant and got myself a light lunch, sitting with John who tried to instil an optimism in me I did not feel. I felt queasy, Jeremy still hadn’t called and I was now worried.
    I got back to my desk at 2 p.m. at which point I desperately listened to my voicemail messages, hoping there was one from Jeremy. There wasn’t. I forced myself to concentrate on getting some work done and got lost in processing some invoices. Suddenly the phone rang, startling me. Heart thumping, I picked up the receiver and said, ‘Office Services.’ Jeremy said, ‘I’ve been charged.’

Chapter 5
FOUR CHARGES AND A STITCH UP
    I didn’t know what to say. Holding the phone to my ear and staring out of the window at some distant point, I felt dizzy and had difficulty inhaling.
    Bringing me back to attention, Jeremy asked me to ring him back on his mobile. ‘The bastard has stitched me up,’ he shouted hysterically. ‘I’ve been charged for the credit card transactions and for possessing images that I have never, ever seen in my life which were found on the Tiny computer that I sold to Gerard.’ This was the computer that Gerard had purchased from Jeremy in June 2001 and owned until it was seized by the police in October 2003. I was aghast. If this went all the way, Jeremy could go to prison and be put on the sex offenders register. How could we carry on the business? What about