The Girl in the Picture

‘Don’t be put off by the handwriting,’ I said to Kyle, sipping my cappuccino. I’d given him Diana’s memoir in an envelope and he slid the pages out to glance at them.

‘I’ll do my best,’ he said, frowning. ‘Listen…’ He paused. ‘Perhaps…’

‘Perhaps what?’ I encouraged.

‘Look,’ he said in a rush, ‘are you free tonight? I’ll have the chat with Julia, then zip through this and we can talk about it over dinner.’