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,