‘Ugh!
What’s this?’ complained Daryl.
Maggie
gritted her teeth. ‘Shepherd’s pie.
You’ve had it before and you liked it.’
‘I’m
not eating it.’
‘If
you don’t eat it, there’ll be no ice-cream, no sweets and no mountain bike for
your birthday. And I mean it this
time. So you’d better bloody well eat
it.’
He
had never seen his mother scream with such uncontrolled vehemence before and he
hurriedly began eating, while glowering at his goody-goody little sister who
was dutifully tucking into her meal. Gary,
carrying a billiard cue, came rushing into the kitchen.
‘What’s all that shouting and swearing?’
‘I
hate shepherd’s pie,’ whined Daryl. ‘And
Mum’s swearing at me because I don’t like it.’
‘I
like shepherd’s pie, Daddy,’ said Hannah cutely, and her brother stared at her
with loathing.
‘You
eat it, there’s a good boy,’ Gary
said, patting his son on the shoulder.
He looked accusingly at Maggie.
‘Shouting and swearing’s not going to help.’
‘Don’t
interfere,
And where are you going with that?’
‘I’m
gonna play snooker. Why?’
‘No
you’re not.’
‘Now what’s the problem?
It’s the semi-finals tonight.
It’s been on the cards for some time.
You know it has.’
‘That’s
tough, Gary.
You should have thought of that before...’
‘Before
what?’
She
turned away from him, opened one of the cupboards and reached for a bottle of
Cinzano. He watched as she poured
herself a liberal measure.
‘You
can’t play snooker tonight because we’re short staffed at Maidstone.’
‘Oh
blimey !Millie’s not ill again, is she?’
Maggie
fetched ice from the fridge and threw Gary
a sidelong look of triumph. ‘Who said
anything about Millie?’
‘Oh.
It’s not...er...’
He couldn’t bring himself to say her name.
‘Sharon,’
Maggie finished for him. ‘Yes, I’m
afraid Sharon’s no longer with
us. I fired her this afternoon.’
‘What
the hell did you do that for?’
‘Do
you want me to spell it out for you, Gary?
In front of the children. Do you
really want me to say why I got rid of her?’
‘You
can’t sack people without good reason.’
‘Oh,
I’ve got a good reason alright.’
‘But
what am I gonna do about the snooker?’
Maggie
dropped her ice cubes into her drink and stared incredulously at her
husband. How thick-skinned could he be?
Daryl,
who had been listening carefully to this exchange, found the slight pause he
had been waiting for.
‘Dad’s
been shagging Sharon,’ he told his
sister.
There
was a deathly silence in the room. He
hadn’t truly understood the significance of his statement, but he could feel
the ripples of discomfort it had caused, and it gave him a wonderful feeling of
power.
*
Craig finished wrapping two
portions of pie and chips then snatched up the phone.
It was Tony Rice.
‘It’s
not a good time to ring,’ Craig told him.
‘I’m on my own and I’ve got a shop full of customers.’
‘Bugger
‘em,’ said Rice. ‘We on for this little
caper on Friday night? Because I’ve
fixed you up with a watertight alibi.’
‘There’s
no such thing.’
‘You
interested or not?’
‘Yeah.
Why not? Let’s go for it.’
‘Can
you meet me tonight in Hastings? We’re
meeting a guy called Harvey Boyle. I’ll explain
later. Here’s the address’
Craig
glanced along the queue of customers as he hastily scribbled the address on a
chip wrapper. Those at the back of the
queue looked more irritated than those at the front.
‘I’ll
see you later then I should be there
about half-eleven. Who’s this Harvey
Boyle?’
‘Owns
a club in Hastings,’ explained
Rice. ‘He’s the owner of the club.
And he’s got your alibi lined up.
Quite tasty she is, an’ all.’’
*
Donald was already into his second
large gin and tonic by the time Ted arrived at the pub.
‘Sorry
I’m late,’ said Ted sheepishly. ‘Points
failure at Hither Green. Can I get you a
drink?’
Donald
smiled congenially. ‘You mean there
really is such a thing as points failure?
I always thought it was an excuse for staff shortages.
I’ll have a single gin to add to this one,
please.’
Ted
placed his sports bag on the floor near Donald and went to get the drinks.
When he returned with a gin, and a pint of
bitter for himself, he noticed his new friend had an amused expression on his
face.
‘Tell
me, Ted, what do you cart about in this bag of yours?
You had it with you the first time we met.’
‘It’s
my uniform.’
Donald grinned knowingly. 'I see. And it's not really Molyneux Park Road, is
it?'
Ted
felt the start of a blush. Donald patted
him reassuringly on the knee.
‘Take
no notice; I’m only teasing. But for
some time I’ve had this kinky fantasy about a man in uniform.’
Ted
didn’t know where to look. His blush
deepened as he stared into his beer.
‘Tell
me,’ continued Donald, ‘why did you get married?’
‘Oh,
I suppose we...er...’ Ted began falteringly.
‘We must have loved each other.’
‘And
now?’
‘Now
I can’t stand her. I hate her.’
‘So
what are you going to do about it?’
Ted
shrugged. ‘I wish I knew.
She’s waiting to talk to me tonight...about
the chipolatas again.’
‘Chipolatas?’
Ted
felt the need to unburden himself.
Slowly he began to explain about his plan to poison Marjorie.
But he realized Donald wasn’t listening.
Looming over their table was an overweight
young man in denims and a white T-shirt under a black leather, studded
jacket. He was in his early thirties and
sported a Freddie Mercury moustache which didn’t suit his large round face.
‘Who’s
she?’ he hissed, glaring at Ted.
‘Bamber,’said Donald cheerfully, ‘I’d like you to meet Ted.’
IN EPISODE SEVENTEEN ON THURSDAY
Ted’s problems are complicated by
Donald’s friend and Gary pushes his luck even further.
