'No, it's not that. Loads of my friends are gay.' He couldn't believe he'd just come out with that. 'As I said, I'm just knackered. Here — please take it; it's all on expenses.' He held out the money but James waved it away. 'Not if you're not coming in with us. We'll pay our own way, thanks.'
'OK.' Tom knew he was breaking the cardinal rule of client entertainment by not being the last to bed. 'What time shall I pick you up tomorrow?'
'Ten?' said James, already moving away from him.
Unable to step any closer to the gum-spattered area in front of the doors, Tom could only stand where he was and weakly call out, 'Have a great time!'
Chapter 11
1 November 2002
Jon shifted the shopping bag to his other hand and looked at his watch. 'I'm not going to make this. McCloughlin wants to see me at 11.30. If I walk with you back to Piccadilly station, you can get the train home and I'll get a cab over to the nick. Is that all right?'
Alice linked her arm through his. 'Two whole hours of shopping; I should count my lucky stars I've had you this long.' She looked up into his face. 'You're going to be buried in this new investigation, aren't you?'
Jon looked away, eyes on the passing traffic. 'Not necessarily. There are some promising leads.'
Alice squeezed his arm. 'Jon Spicer, the only time you agree to go shopping with me is when you're trying to atone in advance for something.'
Jon thought about the coming weekend. He'd already made himself unavailable for Cheadle Ironside's match on Saturday, receiving a load of grief from the coach when he did. He was fairly certain their plans to go walking in the Peak District with his sister on Sunday were going to fall by the wayside too. 'OK, yeah. You might be having Sunday lunch at the Nag's Head Inn without me.'
She pressed her head against his upper arm. 'There'll be other weekends when we can do that.'
He put his arm around her and hugged her close, thankful as always for how understanding she was. But a small part of him quietly whispered, Will she be this reasonable if there's a baby in the house?
Jon stared down at his feet. 'I'm going to miss Ellie again. I was looking forward to seeing her.'
'What about if we invite her round tonight? She hates being stuck in on her own on a Friday. I'll get a video and stuff.' 'Nice thinking. I'll try and get away at a decent time.' He pulled his mobile out and dialled. 'Ellie, it's me, Jon. How are you doing?'
He could detect the forced cheer in her voice as she claimed that she was fine.
'Listen,' Jon continued. 'I'm caught up in this new investigation, so probably can't make Edale with you and Alice this Sunday.'
'Oh,' she said, voice now small.
Jon continued quickly, 'What are you doing tonight?'
There was silence as Alice waved at him vigorously. 'Just ask her!' she silently mouthed.
Realizing his question had put her on the spot, Jon said, 'How about coming round to ours? Alice will get a video and curry so we can just take it easy.'
Ellie pretended to think about it for a second. 'Yeah, that sounds great. Cheers.'
'OK,' said Jon, winking at Alice. 'By the way, I'm going to be flitting round the city centre. You want me to get you anything from that delicatessen you like? Some of that Aussie chocolate — what's it called, Violet Crumble?'
There was a smile in her voice as she said, 'No, you're all right. But thanks for the offer.'
Mary Walters smoothed her bedcovers down and straightened up. One by one, she picked up the soft toys from the bedside table and placed them carefully on her pillow. The routine was a daily one, largest bears at the back, leaning against the headboard, smaller ones at the front, leaning against their larger companions. Sometimes she would swap the smaller toys round a bit, just to give each one a front-row view of her bedroom.
Satisfied with her arrangement, she turned her back on their collection of sweet faces. In the hallway she went through her coupons and vouchers, deciding that she would visit Netto later to cash in her discounts on Robinson's Barley Water; even though the sunny weather was long over, the taste would remind her of the summer. She thanked the Lord for little pleasures like that.
Now in her front room, she peeked out of the window at the yard behind her flat, face squirming with distaste at what she might see. But, to her relief, no used condoms were stretched out on the asphalt like huge albino slugs. Her sign had really worked and she thanked the Lord again.
At the table she sat down, knowing there were a couple of hours before her friend Emma arrived. She began sorting through the notices for the forthcoming play at Sunday school. Noah's Ark. It never failed to get the children excited, all the pairs of lovely animals trooping on to the cardboard ship, blue sheets ready in the wings for when the flood waters began to rise.
She glanced at her watch and, as if on cue, the doorbell rang. Mary looked round the curtain and saw a man standing on the top step. He was wearing a suit and holding a briefcase. He looked just like one of the men she went knocking on doors with, handing out the Lord's magazines. As she opened her front door to him, he smiled and said, 'Miss Mary Walters?'
Jon and Alice continued their walk up Portland Street. As they drew level with the Yates's Wine Lodge, Jon said, 'Let's cut round by the law courts — it'll save us a few minutes.'
He moved the shopping bag back to his other hand, examining the ruts the thin plastic handles had gouged in his fingers, flexing them back and forth to help get the blood flowing again.
'No pain, no gain, 'Alice joked. 'It'll be worth it, you'll see.'
Jon looked into the bag at the juicer box inside. 'It had better, the amount it cost.'
'You just wait — I've found this excellent recipe book. With the amount of healthy drinks we'll be having, there'll be no colds in our house this Christmas.'
'No, just mounds of fruit pulp!'
'There's even suggestions for juice drinks to combat cravings. Ginger, aniseed or wheat grass can all help, apparently.'
An image of Alice as some modern-day witch dropping God-knows-what into the top of the appliance appeared in his mind. 'Hubble bubble,' he murmured to himself as they got to the corner of the law courts.
Jon looked at the derelict building opposite, The Department of Employment. There's got to be some sort of irony in that, he thought, scrutinizing the court entrance as the last of another bunch of shaven-headed scrotes in shell suits shuffled inside for their hearing. They crossed the tram tracks curving away to Piccadilly station and Alice began examining the fly sheets that had been pasted on to the chipboards nailed over the ground-floor windows of the empty building. The council had been round making half-hearted attempts at peeling them away, but had only succeeded in ripping off the top layers and revealing what had been taking place on the music scene several months before.
'Heathen Chemistry by Oasis,' said Alice. 'That bombed.'
'Kylie Minogue's Fever Tour, the little minx,' said Jon looking at another. Alice punched him on the arm as he continued, 'David Bowie at the Move festival; we really should have got tickets for that.'
'Yeah,' answered Alice, a nostalgic look on her face. 'The Thin White Duke — that brings back memories.' She snaked both arms round Jon's waist and pressed her body against his. 'In fact, one of our first ever snogs was to 'Ashes to Ashes'. Do you remember? Outside the scout hut disco?'
Jon smiled with the memory.
'How about it? Just for old time's sake,' she asked mischievously.
Jon looked around, seeing other bag-laden shoppers making their way back towards the station. 'Here? Now?'
She pouted with mock petulance. 'You never kiss me in public any more.' She dropped her arms and walked away.