Free I Remember You by Martin Edwards Page A

here ... is that you, Finbar? Where the hell are you?’
    â€˜In the Hotel Blue Moon.’
    Finbar was gasping, as if someone had dropped a heavy stone onto his chest, squeezing all the breath and good humour out of him. Harry knew the Blue Moon: a no-star establishment, in a side street round the corner from Mount Pleasant.
    â€˜What are you doing there?’ he demanded. ‘Melissa’s really on the warpath. You make the Scarlet Pimpernel look like a stick-in-the-mud. And what in God’s name is the matter with you? You sound as though you’re dying.’
    â€˜Harry, it’s a miracle I’m not already dead.’
    â€˜What are you talking about?’
    â€˜Someone wants to murder me.’
    â€˜Does he realise he’ll have to join the queue?’
    â€˜Listen, I’m serious.’
    Suddenly Harry believed it. He’d never known Finbar sound so desperate.
    â€˜Go on.’
    â€˜First I had the fire. Okay, I couldn’t believe someone was out to attack me personally. But now there’s nothing surer.’
    â€˜What’s happened?’
    â€˜There’s been a bastard of an explosion here. It’s a miracle I’ve not been carted off to the mortuary.’
    â€˜For Chrissake, how come?’
    Finbar exhaled noisily.
    â€˜Some fucking maniac has only strapped a bomb to the bottom of my car.’

Chapter Eight
    â€˜See the crack in the mirror?’ asked Finbar, jerking his thumb towards the dressing table at the other end of the hotel bedroom. The splintered glass distorted his features, making him seem more Mephistophelian than ever. ‘It’s not shoddy furnishing, though in this place you might not believe it. The blast did that. And as for the window panes...’
    He ground his heel into the shards scattered across the carpet. Sitting on the unmade bed, Harry grimaced as he heard the woman being sick in the bathroom next door: a violent, prolonged retching. Through the partition walls they could hear every movement, every groan.
    For the sake of something to say, he asked, ‘Where were you when you heard the explosion?’ As soon as the words left his mouth, he realised it was a silly question.
    Finbar raised his eyes skywards in disbelief. ‘Come on, Harry! You don’t think I invited a lovely lady like Sophie here to give me a few tips on how to be a better radio interviewee, surely to God? We were in bed, where d’you think?’
    A thought occurred to Finbar. For the first time since Harry’s arrival, the mischievous grin reappeared.
    â€˜I’ve heard of the earth moving - but that was ridiculous.’
    As he spoke, the bathroom door opened to reveal Sophie Wilkins, pale and tear-stained and wiping her nose with a tissue. Her beige silk blouse was carelessly buttoned and Harry noticed a ladder in her sexy black tights. He could scarcely recognise the self-confident media person he had met earlier that morning.
    â€˜For God’s sake!’ She spat out the words with a hostility that smacked both men to attention. ‘What’s the matter with you? Your car has been blown up by a bomb and all you can do is crack puerile jokes. Well, if that makes you feel macho, fine, but I’m not staying around here to pander to your bloody male ego.’
    Finbar made a movement towards her. ‘Sophie, love, don’t go. At times like these, a man and a woman...’
    She brushed away his hand as it rested for an instant on her shoulder. Red blotches had appeared on her cheeks.
    â€˜Spare me the words of wisdom, Finbar. They belong in a Christmas cracker, not in my life.’
    â€˜Sophie, listen to me,’ said Harry. ‘You’ve had a hell of a shock - both of you have. And how do you think Finbar feels? Neither of you is thinking straight. Why don’t you stay a while? The police will want to talk to you.’
    The anger that lit her eyes told him he had said the wrong