Monday 8th October. Prison Cell
*Peter stares out of the window at the thoroughly dismal weather, unable to concentrate on the briefing in front of him. It's a new one, so it probably contains something of value if leaked to the press via one of his erstwhile colleagues, aka Tinkerbell, aka Alastair. He should at least search for something to give Chuka, but he really can't be bothered.
He shivers. Despite much prodding from Fiona, he's barely had anything except tea and some toast since Friday. It probably isn't helping his concentration, but he just doesn't feel like eating.
He catches sight of the phone out of the corner of his eye and considers ringing the stupid wonderful heartless man, just to see if he can make him feel as bad as Peter does, but resists. It probably wouldn't work. George already thinks he's a monster, Peter doesn't want him thinking he's pathetic as well. He shoves the phone under some papers so it's out of sight and tries to get back to work.*
He shivers. Despite much prodding from Fiona, he's barely had anything except tea and some toast since Friday. It probably isn't helping his concentration, but he just doesn't feel like eating.
He catches sight of the phone out of the corner of his eye and considers ringing the stupid wonderful heartless man, just to see if he can make him feel as bad as Peter does, but resists. It probably wouldn't work. George already thinks he's a monster, Peter doesn't want him thinking he's pathetic as well. He shoves the phone under some papers so it's out of sight and tries to get back to work.*