“Roll on ze next Olympics,” he said ruefully, as he came out of the ring. As Jake started to dry Sailor’s legs, the horse nudged at his pocket for Polos. ”Tory, who had been listening at the top of the stairs, desperate for some crumb of comfort, some tiny piece of news about Jake, slunk back to bed. “Please don’t let me wake up.
”“How’s Macaulay?”Jake’s face softened. He moved forward to help as Helen fell on her knees, frantically scrabbling up banker’s cards, keys, loose change, lipsticks and stray Lillets. She was pissed off because you forgot to take her to some party on Saturday night. ”“You need a shave,” she said, drifting back into unconsciousness.
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