She could feel him watching her but every time her eyes flicked to catch his, he’d be looking down at the tattered day-worn Metro in his hand. Even from ten metres away, the paper looked scuffed and dirty, and it’d been folded in half since the man had first picked it up.They’d both boarded the train at Liverpool Street with the late-commute crowd. 18:27. Two strangers in a crowd of dozens more. A wet night. The air outsi...