walked in.’
Hol and shook his head. ‘Never occurred to me. Some people have got nasty, suspicious minds.’
‘Difficult not to.’
‘That make you a good copper, you reckon?’ Hol and smiled, but it didn’t sound as though he was joking. ‘Or a bad one?’
‘Probably just one who’s been doing it too long,’ Thorne said.
Hol and leaned forward to see if there were any crisps left, but al the packets were empty. ‘So, how long was it before you stopped giving people the benefit of the doubt?’ he asked.
‘That’s the jury’s job, not mine,’ Thorne said.
‘Seriously.’
‘I don’t think I ever did . . . ever do .’ Thorne took a mouthful of wine. It was a little sweeter than the one Louise bought from Sainsbury’s. ‘If you start off assuming that everyone’s a twat, you’re unlikely to be disappointed. ’ He glanced towards the bar and saw the woman looking in their direction. He smiled, then turned back to Hol and. ‘Al right, I suppose I do feel a bit guilty,’ he said. ‘And stupid, for thinking this business with Jamie Paice might have been important.’
‘It might have been,’ Hol and said. He held up his glass. ‘And right now we’d be toasting our success with something a bit more expensive. ’ He swil ed the beer around, stared into it.
‘We’ve got to chase up everything, right, even if it is stupid, until we get lucky or this bloke makes a mistake.’
‘I’m hoping he’s already made one,’ Thorne said. ‘I don’t want to see any more pieces of that X-ray.’
A few minutes later, Hol and asked, ‘So, why are we really here?’
‘I’m not with you.’
‘Sitting in this shit-hole instead of being at home in our own beds.’ The look on Hol and’s face made it clear he was expecting to hear about how Thorne was in the doghouse with Louise, or trying to avoid some tedious dinner with her family and friends. Hoping to hear something he could laugh at or sympathise with; shaking his head in disbelief at the sil y shit their girlfriends put them through. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to say.’
Thorne was struggling to answer the question. There was some reason for his reluctance to go home that he could not quite articulate, but which nevertheless made him feel horribly guilty. He would not have felt comfortable sharing it with Hol and, or anyone else, even if he had been able to find the right words. ‘I told you,’ he said, happy to exaggerate the perfectly timed yawn. ‘I’m just knackered.’
‘Fair enough.’ Hol and stood up and said that he was ready to turn in.
They arranged to meet for breakfast at seven. Hol and said he would set the alarm on his phone. Then, instead of walking with Hol and towards the lifts, Thorne contradicted himself by announcing that he was staying up for one more: ‘It’l help me sleep.’
‘Have a couple,’ Hol and said. ‘You’l sleep like a baby.’
Thorne could guess where it was going, but just smiled, letting Hol and get to the punchline.
‘You’l wake up crying because you’ve pissed yourself.’
Thorne walked to the bar and ordered another glass of wine. The woman sitting a few stools along put down her magazine. ‘Your mate abandoned you, has he?’
‘I’ve got a dirty, suspicious mind, apparently,’ Thorne said. He nodded towards the optics. ‘You want one?’
The woman thanked him and moved across. She asked for a rum and Coke and when she spoke it was obvious that it was not going to be her first. She was pale, with shoulder-length dark hair, and wore a cream denim jacket over a shortish brown skirt. The barman in the plum-coloured waistcoat, whose name tag said TREVOR, set about pouring the drinks and raised his eyebrows at Thorne when the woman wasn’t looking.
‘I’m Angie,’ she said.
Thorne shook the woman’s outstretched hand and felt himself redden a little as he told her his name.
‘What business you in then, Tom?’
‘I sel nuts,’ Thorne said.
Hol and shook his head. ‘Never occurred to me. Some people have got nasty, suspicious minds.’
‘Difficult not to.’
‘That make you a good copper, you reckon?’ Hol and smiled, but it didn’t sound as though he was joking. ‘Or a bad one?’
‘Probably just one who’s been doing it too long,’ Thorne said.
Hol and leaned forward to see if there were any crisps left, but al the packets were empty. ‘So, how long was it before you stopped giving people the benefit of the doubt?’ he asked.
‘That’s the jury’s job, not mine,’ Thorne said.
‘Seriously.’
‘I don’t think I ever did . . . ever do .’ Thorne took a mouthful of wine. It was a little sweeter than the one Louise bought from Sainsbury’s. ‘If you start off assuming that everyone’s a twat, you’re unlikely to be disappointed. ’ He glanced towards the bar and saw the woman looking in their direction. He smiled, then turned back to Hol and. ‘Al right, I suppose I do feel a bit guilty,’ he said. ‘And stupid, for thinking this business with Jamie Paice might have been important.’
‘It might have been,’ Hol and said. He held up his glass. ‘And right now we’d be toasting our success with something a bit more expensive. ’ He swil ed the beer around, stared into it.
‘We’ve got to chase up everything, right, even if it is stupid, until we get lucky or this bloke makes a mistake.’
‘I’m hoping he’s already made one,’ Thorne said. ‘I don’t want to see any more pieces of that X-ray.’
A few minutes later, Hol and asked, ‘So, why are we really here?’
‘I’m not with you.’
‘Sitting in this shit-hole instead of being at home in our own beds.’ The look on Hol and’s face made it clear he was expecting to hear about how Thorne was in the doghouse with Louise, or trying to avoid some tedious dinner with her family and friends. Hoping to hear something he could laugh at or sympathise with; shaking his head in disbelief at the sil y shit their girlfriends put them through. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to say.’
Thorne was struggling to answer the question. There was some reason for his reluctance to go home that he could not quite articulate, but which nevertheless made him feel horribly guilty. He would not have felt comfortable sharing it with Hol and, or anyone else, even if he had been able to find the right words. ‘I told you,’ he said, happy to exaggerate the perfectly timed yawn. ‘I’m just knackered.’
‘Fair enough.’ Hol and stood up and said that he was ready to turn in.
They arranged to meet for breakfast at seven. Hol and said he would set the alarm on his phone. Then, instead of walking with Hol and towards the lifts, Thorne contradicted himself by announcing that he was staying up for one more: ‘It’l help me sleep.’
‘Have a couple,’ Hol and said. ‘You’l sleep like a baby.’
Thorne could guess where it was going, but just smiled, letting Hol and get to the punchline.
‘You’l wake up crying because you’ve pissed yourself.’
Thorne walked to the bar and ordered another glass of wine. The woman sitting a few stools along put down her magazine. ‘Your mate abandoned you, has he?’
‘I’ve got a dirty, suspicious mind, apparently,’ Thorne said. He nodded towards the optics. ‘You want one?’
The woman thanked him and moved across. She asked for a rum and Coke and when she spoke it was obvious that it was not going to be her first. She was pale, with shoulder-length dark hair, and wore a cream denim jacket over a shortish brown skirt. The barman in the plum-coloured waistcoat, whose name tag said TREVOR, set about pouring the drinks and raised his eyebrows at Thorne when the woman wasn’t looking.
‘I’m Angie,’ she said.
Thorne shook the woman’s outstretched hand and felt himself redden a little as he told her his name.
‘What business you in then, Tom?’
‘I sel nuts,’ Thorne said.
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