Babyface. Elizabeth Woodcraft

      BABYFACE

      Elizabeth Woodcraft

       Dedication

       For my mother, Peggy Perry

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

Dedication

One: Tuesday Afternoon

Two: Birmingham

Three: Wednesday Morning – Crown Court

Four: Wednesday – Court 7

Five: Wednesday Afternoon – The Inquiry

Six: Thursday – Inquiry

Seven: Friday – Chambers

Eight: Friday Evening

Nine: Saturday

Ten: Saturday Evening – The Dinner Party

       Eleven: Sunday – Mum’s for Lunch

       Twelve: Sunday Evening – Yolande?

       Thirteen: Monday Morning – Inquiry

       Fourteen: Monday Evening

       Fifteen: Tuesday

       Sixteen: Wednesday – Inquiry

       Seventeen: Wednesday Evening

       Eighteen: Thursday

       Nineteen: Thursday Dinner – Dance

       Twenty: Friday – Back to London

       Twenty-One: Saturday – Euston

       Twenty-Two: Saturday Lunch

       Twenty-Three: Saturday Evening

       Twenty-Four: Sunday Lunch

       Twenty-Five: Sunday Afternoon

       Twenty Six: Monday Morning – Clerkenwell

       Twenty-Seven: Tuesday – Birmingham Crown Court

       Twenty-Eight: Later Tuesday Morning – Inquiry/View

       Twenty-Nine: Wednesday – Police Questioning

       Thirty: Thursday Morning

       Thirty-One: Thursday Evening

       Thirty Two: Friday – Picnic

       Thirty-Three: Hospital

       Thirty-Four: Saturday – Back to Clerkenwell

       Thirty-Five: Sunday – Birmingham

       Thirty-Six: Monday Morning

       Thirty Seven: Monday Afternoon – Crown Court

       Thirty-Eight: Monday – Late Afternoon

       Thirty-Nine: Later Monday Evening

       Forty: Tuesday – Inquiry

       Forty-One: Thursday – Tony’s Do

       Keep Reading

       Acknowledgements

       About the Author

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       ONETuesday Afternoon

      I was just getting into the rhythm of packing when the phone rang. I was slinging socks and a toothbrush into my bag and wondering if I could get away with one suit for the rest of the week.

      It was Gavin, my clerk. ‘You’re still at home then?’ he said.

      The obviousness of the question left me silent.

      ‘Your solicitor’s just rung to say the inquiry has been put back till two thirty.’

      ‘So I don’t have to go up at all tonight. I can go in the morning. That’s great.’ I began to unbutton my black shirt. I was wearing my work outfit so there’d be less to carry. Already I was planning my evening. I could have a great night out in Stoke Newington with a few close friends, go to Fox’s wine bar,