The Last Girl (38 page)

‘Of course not.’

‘Still, I’ve had worse experiences on the Underground.’

‘I’m not sure I have.’ I absolutely refused to make eye contact with him from a distance of six inches, even though I could feel him staring at the side of my face. The carriage was filling up behind him, the passengers who’d been waiting forcing their way on despite the fact that the doors were already beeping to indicate they were about to close. He gave a snort of laughter and moved back slightly as the doors finally slid home, leaving a platform full of reproachful faces behind.

‘You should see your expression. Pure misery.’

‘It’s about fifty degrees down here and I’m enduring full body contact with my boss. Why are you even surprised I’m miserable?’

‘Oh, I’m not, really. It must be torture for you, being so close to me.’

‘It is,’ I said, my tone absolutely sincere. ‘But I’m fairly sure it’s not in the way you’re thinking.’

‘Always fighting it, aren’t you?’

‘And I always will.’

‘Yeah, you don’t want to get a reputation for shagging your colleagues.’

‘Which is the only reason I’m not tempted, let me tell you.’

Derwent grinned, knowing full well I wouldn’t dream of having anything to do with him. ‘Right. Well, let’s enjoy being out of the office and away from this shitty case for once. The first round is on me.’

He was as good as his word, fighting to the bar through a packed pub when we eventually emerged from the Underground and located it. The street outside was full of drunk people talking too loudly and smoking as if they were getting paid to do it. Inside, it was hotter still but the fug of smoke was pleasantly absent. I could only imagine what it would have been like in there before the ban. I jostled through the crowd to stand in what seemed to be the only free space in the entire bar and checked my phone. While I was reading my messages a tall, frosty glass of gin landed on the shelf beside me with a clink of ice cubes. A bottle followed.

‘Tonic. Add your own. I’d go for as little as you can stand and take the evening from there.’

‘Top advice, boss.’ Desperately thirsty after the journey, I emptied the bottle in anyway and drained it in one go. I surfaced gasping. ‘Was that a double?’

‘It was indeed.’ Derwent handed me another glass which he’d had tucked under his arm. ‘Here’s another. Get it down.’

‘I’d quite like to be not blind drunk when I meet Rob’s colleagues, thanks.’

‘Whatever.’ Derwent had lined up a pint for himself to follow the one in his hand. ‘Any sign of them?’

‘Rob’s just texted me. They’re in the back room, apparently. I can’t face the struggle to get there. I said we’d
wait
here until the crowd thinned out a bit.’ I looked around. ‘These are post-work boozers. They’ll be hungry by now and this place doesn’t serve food. I reckon half an hour will see us right.’

It was a small enough pub, a weird combination of traditional boozer and swanky bar. I guessed it had been redecorated recently and the tiny chandeliers, blue velvet banquettes and wooden floor were new. The big mahogany bar was emphatically not, dented and scratched by generations of drinkers. Mirrors ran down both sides of the room, doubling the reflections of hundreds of people all crammed in, shouting at the tops of their voices. I craned to see the room at the back, getting a vague impression that it was even more crowded than the part we were in. I couldn’t see Rob anywhere.

‘When did they get here?’

‘An hour ago.’

‘Great. They’ll be softening up nicely. No one will be able to remember to be discreet.’ Derwent scooped up his second drink. ‘Come on. I could waste time talking to you, but there’s gossip to be had. Faint heart never won fair Flying Squad.’

‘You go first,’ I urged.

‘Shy?’

‘No, but you’re bigger than me and people are more likely to get out of your way.’

‘True. Stick close.’

I did as he said, staying within touching distance of his back as he shouldered through the crowd, leaving a variety of shaken and annoyed drinkers behind him. He made it to the doorway of the inner room and stopped dead, so that I crashed into him. I leaned forward and said into his ear, ‘What’s up? Can’t you see them?’

Instead of answering, he turned around, and it was as if a switch had flipped in his head. The jovial fellow-drinker was gone; he was back to being the faintly sinister superior
officer
I found so unsettling. ‘Look, I’ve turned a blind eye to this so far but I can’t ignore it any more. This is unprofessional behaviour and I’m surprised at you.’

‘What?’

‘It’s completely irresponsible to go out drinking when we’re in the middle of a big case. Two, if you count the gang stuff. I might get to work on that yet, and I don’t want the Kennford case to get forgotten, even if you’re not too concerned about the fact we have a double-murder to solve.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I looked at him, bewildered.

‘I’m just surprised how unprofessional you are.’

‘Unprofessional,’ I repeated stupidly.

‘You can’t do your best work if you’re tired and hung-over.’

‘No, but I wasn’t planning on a big one.’
And you were the one buying doubles
…

‘You should get out of here.’ He started to move forward so I had to step back. ‘We both should. Best thing you can do is go back to the office and read the notes on the interviews again. I want a report on them on my desk first thing tomorrow morning – anything that bothers you, any major points you think we need to revisit.’

‘I don’t understand. What’s going on, Josh?’

‘It’s up to you. If you want to prove you take your job seriously, you’ll leave now. If not …’ he shrugged. ‘Then I’ll know where you stand.’

It was probably the gin that made me slow to catch on. He had been moving me away from the back room as he spoke, but I was taller than Derwent and still had a good view over his shoulder.

A view that, at that moment, consisted of my boyfriend sitting in the corner of the room, turned away from me. A fair-haired woman stood behind him, her hourglass figure flattered by a tight-fitting skirt and top. Unseen by anyone
at
the table, she was running her hand down the back of his neck and along his shoulder in a gesture that spoke of familiarity, and affection, and intimacy. I was fairly sure I recognised her from the photographs I’d seen the previous night. Rob’s ears were red and as I watched he leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees, moving away from her.

But then, he did know I was in the pub. And however much he enjoyed sneaking around, he’d hardly want to get caught.

Derwent had obviously seen my face change. He risked a glance over his shoulder, then turned back to me. ‘Ah. You’ve seen them.’

‘I have.’

‘It was worth a try.’

‘To save Rob from getting in trouble? Big of you. But I suppose that’s how it works. You boys stick together and try to fool us. After all, we’re just stupid birds. We deserve what we get.’

‘That wasn’t what I was trying to do.’ Derwent shook his head. ‘Ah, fuck. I think I’d better go. What’s your plan?’

‘I don’t know, exactly. Mark my bloody territory, that’s for sure.’

‘Just don’t make a scene.’

‘Why shouldn’t I?’

There was an unfamiliar look on Derwent’s face, a look that I slowly recognised as sympathy. ‘Because if I’m not mistaken, Blondie is Rob’s boss. So you might be the official girlfriend, but you don’t have the advantage, do you? And whatever she’s up to, you might have to bite your tongue for his sake. If you really care about him, I mean.’

I thought that was his parting shot, but I was wrong. He had one left, and he delivered it as he moved away, heading for the door.

‘Not much of a choice, is it? Fuck up his career or kiss
your
relationship goodbye. It sucks to be you, Kerrigan, and no mistake.’

I really, truly wished I didn’t agree with him.

If I hadn’t seen what Derwent had been trying to hide from me, I might not have noticed anything strange was going on, which was actually the opposite of reassuring. Rob turned his head and saw me about two seconds after Derwent faded into the crowd, so I had no alternative but to smile, and make my way through the back room towards him, and allow myself to be folded into his arms for a kiss that tasted of cold beer and went on much longer than I would have expected.

‘That’s a big welcome,’ I said, when I could speak.

‘I missed you.’

Oh, yeah
, I thought, looking into his eyes and seeing nothing but sincerity.
Or this is your way of warning your boss to back off because your current girlfriend has just arrived
. ‘I only saw you this morning.’

‘That was a long time ago.’

He wasn’t wrong. I felt as if I’d been up for days. I was jittery from lack of sleep and spoiling for a fight as a result, but I made myself talk to him civilly about my day, and his, and what I had missed by getting to the pub a bit late. I was fairly sure he hadn’t noticed anything wrong when he offered to introduce me to his colleagues. Of course, it was sod’s law that the first person we encountered when he led me to the corner table was Deborah Ormond, who turned to look at me with a wry, red-lipsticked smile that I longed to smack off her face.

‘And who’s this?’

‘This is Maeve, my girlfriend. She works on Charles Godley’s murder squad.’

‘So you’re the reason Rob left and came to join us.’

‘One of them,’ I agreed.

‘Then I suppose I should say thank you.’

‘There’s no need for that.’ I smiled thinly. ‘Rob made up his own mind to go.’

‘He knows his own mind,’ she said with a quick look at him that I couldn’t quite interpret. His face was unhelpfully neutral when I glanced at it. I swallowed down the hard knot of anger that was threatening to close my throat and agreed with her with a little laugh that made me sound like I was a total airhead.

‘Well, I’d better not monopolise you.’ She made it sound like the excuse it was. I knew what she meant.
This conversation is boring me and you are too gauche for words
.

‘That’s right,’ Rob said easily. ‘You’ve got to meet a lot of people, Maeve. They’ve been asking about you.’

‘You’d better tell me what you’ve been saying.’ I smiled at him again, ignoring DI Ormond as she stepped sideways, out of our path, but I was acutely aware of her scanning me from head to toe, and doubtless being unimpressed with what she saw. I had already noted her very good highlights and expensive haircut, not to mention the fact that enough buttons were undone on her shirt to show off more than a hint of lace underneath. I had also noticed that she had been pretty and was still very attractive, but that there were crow’s feet around her eyes and lines around her mouth. Somehow, that didn’t help me as much as it might have. She was older than me, true, but she had experience to show for it, and assurance. Maybe Rob wanted something different. Maybe he was hoping to get found out so I would take the hint and leave him his freedom. And maybe the photographs had been someone’s way of tipping me off.

I met five or six of his new colleagues and talked to them without taking in a single name or anything they said. I drank another gin and tonic and laughed at jokes I hadn’t heard or understood, and everyone seemed to think I was delightful. Every time I looked at DI Ormond she was deep in conversation with someone, or checking her
phone.
We never made eye contact but I had the impression she was watching me all the same. And Rob never let go of me, keeping one hand in the small of my back or wrapped around my waist, which wasn’t his usual style at all.

‘Another one?’ A brick-faced DS pointed at my glass and I realised it was empty.

‘No. I’m going to hit the road.’

‘Really?’ Rob sounded surprised. ‘So soon?’

‘I know. But I got so little sleep last night.’ I yawned, not actually pretending to be tired. ‘If I keep drinking I’ll fall over sideways.’

‘More booze for you, then,’ the DS said with a loud laugh.

‘Seriously, I’m going to head off. I have a long day tomorrow.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ Rob put down his pint.

‘Don’t be silly. You’re having a good time. You don’t need to escort me home.’ I squeezed his arm affectionately. ‘Stay.’

‘It’s no big deal.’ He was frowning a little. I made a bigger effort to look as if I didn’t have a care in the world apart from being a bit short on sleep, and lowered my voice.

‘You don’t want to get a reputation for being on a short lead, do you? What would the boys say if you left now?’

‘Who cares?’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve never worried about that kind of thing before.’

‘Well, it’s a new team. New rules. And I don’t want to be the reason you get a bad reputation. I feel guilty enough as it is.’

‘I keep telling you, it was my choice to go.’ He sounded irritated, which was good. There was a far better chance he’d let me leave alone that way, and all I wanted was to be alone so I could think. Not to brood, I assured myself. Just to review the evidence and decide if I was being paranoid.

‘I know. But I still worry about it. Even though your new colleagues seem lovely.’