Tori came back with me to London. Obviously I had to return to let Miss Chapel know the whereabouts of her heirlooms and that
Miss Hicks had beaten me to the punch. You just don't do that by telephone. Plus I had to see if any other potential clients had called for appointments; I hadn't really expected my trip to the states to take as long as it did. At least I had the money from the Hicks woman to pay for the tickets.
The plane ride was a bit tense. Tori acted as though she wanted to ask me some things, but I said I was exhausted and needed a nap. Yes, a bloody 10 hour nap, sue me if I wasn't feeling very talkative. I'd been played, big time, by someone I'd thought was a friend. Suppose I should have known;
Victor was never known for his upstanding nature, but still, I did think we were mates. Rather wanted to strangle that
pipsqueak assistant, too, but you know, trying to go a bit less chaotic and all.
Bloody airline lost my luggage--not Tori's, just mine, thank goodness, I still had clothing at my flat. It got sent to Sweden and took four days to finally get back to Heathrow. Rather a nuisance to have to drive back out there to fetch it.
I suppose I should tell my girl what happened while she's here--the tension is starting to really bother me.