Sidney Sheldon's The Tides of Memory

South of the river, less than a mile from Alexia De Vere’s opulent Westminster office but a world apart, Gilbert Drake sat in Maggie’s Café, hunched over his egg and beans. A classic British greasy spoon, complete with grime-encrusted windows and a peeling linoleum floor, Maggie’s was a popular haunt for cabbies and construction workers on their way to work on the more affluent north side of the river. Gilbert Drake was a regular. Most mornings he was chatty and full of smiles. But not today. Staring at the pic

felt a surge of happiness.

wicked

Sometimes I think she’s more comfortable being a victim than she is being happy.”

in such appalling circumstances

every cloud had a silver lining

To sit back and revel in the profound thrill of power.

. He wrote me off years ago, but who’s laughing now?

“She’s in grave danger

There are doors that, once opened, can’t easily be closed again