This was going to be harder than he thought, mused Dara as he pulled a bulky, knob ridden device from his pocket. It was odd and looked almost like an...old radio if much smaller and with copper wires protruding from it’s back. Dara twisted and pushed it’s buttons for a few moments before he held the device to his ear, faint static leaking from it’s speaker before a voice answered. ‘Marcus, it’s me.’ He said in a quiet but hard tone and waited for a minute, a delay between the unknown receiver’s. ..this is whereyou'll need to tell me your address!" Up until that point, her notknowing my address was I suppose my safety net. It was my refuge and onelast 'get out of jail card' as it were. But of course she needed it andthere I was giving it to her!Only afterwards it hit me that I should have suggested meeting her at heroffice! After all why not? I could have met her there with my bags andstill gone off with her house for the weekend? But I hadn't. Why had Igiven her my address? I had. More

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