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enough. They put their house on the market, but by this time, Jaz’s exploits were so legendary that nobody else wanted to buy it.
    â€œHe’s going to sue you,” said Fee, reading the letter from their neighbors’ lawyer, “for devaluing his property.”
    It was ten o’clock in the morning, and Jaz was drinking Stolichnaya, poured into a can of 7UP so that Fee wouldn’t notice and start nagging again.
    He closed his eyes. “How can I get this bloke off my back?”
    â€œYou could buy the house,” Fee suggested.
    Would that solve all his problems? Somewhat hazily, Jaz decided that it would.
    â€œOK, let’s do it. You sort it out.”
    * * *
    On their fourth wedding anniversary, and at her wits’ end, Fee gave him her ultimatum.
    â€œYou’re always drunk. I can’t carry on like this. Either you sort yourself out or I’m leaving you.”
    â€œNag nag nag.” Jaz sighed. “And you wonder why I’d rather be with my friends than with you.”
    Trembling, Fee stood her ground. “You’re killing yourself. Will you stop drinking? Please?”
    He pulled a face. Why did she always have to do this? “I don’t want to stop. I’m having fun.”
    Looking down at Jaz in bed, Fee said sadly, “Are you sure?”
    * * *
    Fee moved out of the house…and into the one next door. This raised a few eyebrows, but since it suited her purposes and was convenient, she ignored them and carried on regardless. To occupy herself, she set about having the place converted into luxury apartments.
    Jaz, vaguely put out by his wife’s defection, decided she’d only done it to annoy him. To get his own back, he taunted her with a succession of groupies, pretty young girls with bleached blond hair and adoring smiles.
    â€œIf you’re trying to make me jealous,” Fee told him wearily one day, “it isn’t working. I feel sorry for them, and I feel sorry for you. I certainly don’t feel sorry for me.”

Chapter 3
    Curtis and Co., Real Estate Agents, occupied a prime position in the heart of Clifton. With ten minutes to spare before her next appointment, Suzy was perched on the edge of her desk licking the icing off a white chocolate éclair from Charlotte’s Patisserie when Jaz stuck his head around the door.
    â€œIs that how you recruit your customers nowadays?” He grinned and waved briefly at Donna, tap-tapping away at her computer.
    â€œCertainly is.” Suzy bit into the éclair. Her eyes sparkled as she licked cream from her fingers. “Want to buy a house, sir?”
    â€œThanks, but I’ve got plenty already, what with me being so rich.”
    â€œYou can never have too many houses, sir.”
    â€œGo on then, I’ll take a dozen,” said Jaz. “Actually, I’m on my way to the gym. Maeve asked me to drop by and invite you over for dinner tonight. She’s doing one of her specials.”
    Suzy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Maeve asked you?”
    â€œOK, slip of the tongue. She told me. And you aren’t invited around, you’re coming around,” Jaz amended. “Seven o’clock, don’t be late.” He paused. “You all right?”
    The funeral was tomorrow. Hence Maeve’s concern, bless her. Suzy nodded.
    â€œI’m fine.”
    â€œActually, you’re not,” he told her cheerfully. “You’ve got icing on your chin.”
    â€œNow I remember why I divorced you,” said Suzy, picking a pen off her desk and throwing it at him.
    â€œI’ve worked here for six months now,” said Donna when Jaz had left, “and I still don’t know how you two first met.”
    â€œNo? It was all thanks to my mother actually. Which annoyed her no end.” Suzy crossed one leg over the other and jiggled a high heel. “We were in the car having this massive argument, and I jumped out. As you do. So she