Chapter 1

The chilly wind was already gusting unpleasantly and Clive Holmes could smell the impending rain. Fortunately his journey was only the couple of hundred yards from his place of employment to the Workin Hand public house. As he closed the door securely behind him, he appreciated the restorative fire blazing in the hearth. By some mysterious loophole, being sited in a light industrial park exempted the pub from the nanny state’s anti-smoke prohibitions.

It was mid afternoon. The lunchtime crowd had already drifted back to work and the evening crowd had yet to start materialising so Clive had an unobstructed path to the almost deserted bar.

“Hi Clive,” said Sally, smiling warmly. “Just finished your shift?”

“Yes, I’m off for a week now. Although the chances are I’ll be called in to cover for someone.”

“Do you want the usual?”

“Aye, a pint of best and ham, eggs and chips with a side of peas.”

“Go find a table then and I’ll bring your pint over after I’ve given your order to Roman.”

Roman was an ex-con. Derrick, the landlord, had taken a gamble by employing him but had never been given a reason to regret it. Roman was excellent at preparing simple, filling meals. If you wanted pretentious food, the middle of an industrial park was the last place you’d want to take a date so Roman had gauged demand to perfection.

“Cheers, Sally. You’re an angel,” said Clive.

He appropriated cutlery from dispenser on the bar then chose a table where he could sit with his back to the wall. A couple of minutes later Sally sauntered over with his pint, poured just as he liked it.

Sally was a larger girl but always happy and sociable, and when she smiled she lit up the room. Her story was that she was taking a gap year to save some money before going to college, but that year had extended to three and didn’t look like ending any time soon. Derrick hinted she wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer and he couldn’t really see her flourishing in further education, but the customers all loved her so she had a job for as long as she wanted.

Sally had hinted to Clive that she might be up for a tumble in the hay with him. He was sure it would be fun and he was sorely tempted, but so far he hadn’t taken her up on it. As long as the offer wasn’t explicit and he hadn’t explicitly refused no feelings were ruffled.

Clive watched the pub TV while nursing his pint and waiting for his food. It was tuned to a rolling news channel. The sound was muted but subtitles were on. The main topic was the imminent arrival of Winter Storm Sacajawea which, as Hurricane Sacajawea, had first ravaged the Caribbean then cut a swathe up the American East Coast before bouncing across the Atlantic towards the UK, losing little ferocity in the process.

Fifteen minutes or so later, Sally sauntered over with a plate of hot, delicious food. Roman must have guessed who it was for because he’d been generous with the portions. Clive made a note to leave a generous tip.

While Clive was eating, people started to filter in after work. Some of them he knew because they worked at the same company and, when their eyes met, they acknowledged each other with a half-smile and a nod of the head. As one of the security staff, Clive was expected to keep himself aloof from them at work so they weren’t really friends and none of them ventured to come over and join him.

By the time Clive had finished eating, the pub was busy enough to need Derrick to put in an appearance. The TV had been switched to a sports channel that was showing a live football match from somewhere in Eastern Europe and a number of men were watching it. The TV was no longer mute but the sound was low so Clive could only catch the occasional word or sentence above the background noise.

Sally must have been keeping tabs on Clive because she came over and collected his plate shortly after he’d finished eating. “Would you like some dessert?” she asked

Clive patted his full stomach. “No room, but I’ll squeeze in another pint.”

“I’ll bring it over for you.”

Clive was treated to another Sally smile, then he watched the swaying of her hips as she sashayed back to the bar, easily threading her bulk between milling customers.

Following Sally’s route led Clive’s eyes to a woman sitting at the bar. She was too bony and angular for his taste, with her hair pulled back in a severe schoolmarm style. He’d seen her before, and her appearances in his vicinity were becoming more and more frequent. Clive wondered whether she was following him for some reason. He felt a sudden chill despite the heat of the fire.

As he watched her, the woman happened to look in Clive’s direction. Their eyes met and he winked with the intention of showing her that he knew she was up to something. The woman gave a wry smile and looked away. Then she picked up her glass of wine and headed over to Clive’s table.

“Busted,” she admitted as, without waiting for an invitation, she took the seat opposite him.

“So who are you and what do you want with me?”

The woman gave a slight warning shake of her head just as Sally arrived with Clive’s pint.

“Would you like anything else?” Sally asked, her smile distinctly forced as she sized up his companion.

“Would you like another drink?” he asked the stranger.