Louis Boucher had been the commander of the National Police for five years. I had talked with him several times since the signing of the Pact papers. ...his morning had been the first face to face meeting.I liked what I heard; I liked his attitude and dedication to fighting terrorism. His father had been in the French resistance during the Great War. His grandfather earned medals in WW1 as a unit commander. He knew what could happen when politicians got out of control.He had to play the political. Cathy had suggested to Lucy we have a small celebration of the c***dren going off to uni or something Lick that. The evening duly arrived and so did Stephen and Cathy. We insisted on hosting as they were having work done and it seemed so much more sensible. The evening was going nicely with light bites and the wine seemed to flow a little too easily making everyone nice and warm and mellow. We had got to the point where we were recycling old jokes from our youth, even the one about swopping. The guest house was precious, and Constance was as impressed as I was. We spent a long time walking through and getting a feel for the place. She opened every door, looked in every cupboard, and touched everything.We flopped down on one of the opposing sofas in the rear-facing, great room, where a roaring, gas fire welcomed us. The air was chilled but not wintery, yet. If I stayed here very long, that fire was going to be my very best friend.Constance pressed her hands down into the impossibly. ..I was at my friends house having a chat as i havent seen him for a quite a long time, we used to be very close we used to go on holiday together etc. So we was having a pizza and just a chat to see what hes bin upto over the months, then he gets a phonecall from his mum asking him can she pick him up from the pub as shes been out with her friends from work, now because my friend has had a drink he cant and im the only sober one there because i drove to his house. His mum knows me so i.
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