Death's Cold Hand, J.E. Mayhew [book club recommendations .txt] 📗

even smaller than the bar area if that was possible. It was shadowy and only managed to contain an old leather sofa, a low table and a couple of stools. The bare floorboards creaked under Jeff’s feet as he walked in and he got a real sense of the pub’s antiquity. He imagined dark deeds and underhand deals had been arranged here for centuries. The idea of writing a history of the pub flashed through his mind, only to be crushed by McClague’s warning.

The woman cuddled up to Kyle Quinlan on the old leather sofa wasn’t Laura and must have been half Quinlan’s age. She wore a mask of make-up which Jeff found both attractive and confusing. Why would such a young girl plaster herself in slap when she didn’t need it? Jeff planted the pint on the low table in front of Quinlan. The big, dark-haired man untangled himself from the young woman and picked up the drink. From what Jeff could see, Kyle didn’t need another pint.

“Cheers, Jeff, you’re a real gent,” he said, his voice slurring. He turned to the woman. “This is Jeffrey Blake, Layla, he’s an author.”

“Wow,” Layla said, smoothing out her short, sequined dress. “What have you written?”

Jeff felt a blush warm his cheek. “I don’t think you’d have heard…”

“Go on Jeff, Layla’s got ‘A’ Levels and everything.”

“Quixote Junction?” Jeff said, hopefully. Layla looked blankly at him. “Cinnamon and Blue? It was a collection of short stories about people at a dinner party…”

“Ooh, hang on a minute. Yeah, was one of the stories called Crab Apples?”

Jeff blinked at her. “Yes. Yes it was…”

“Yeah, my English teacher was always going on about it. He bought me the book.”

“He bought my book as a present for you?”

“Yeah, he was a good teacher,” Layla said, giving Jeff a lipstick grin and stretching sinuously on the sofa. “I enjoyed it.” For a moment, Jeff was uncertain whether she meant his book or something else.

“See?” Quinlan said, grinning madly. Jeff wondered if he was under the influence of something stronger than drink.

Jeff smiled and nodded, not quite sure what point Quinlan was making. Was the man trying to take credit for Layla’s teacher giving her the book or the fact that Layla liked the book or what? “Great,” Jeff said instead of asking any questions. “So, you said you’d give me some background on Josh Gambles, Kyle…”

Quinlan leaned forward, almost knocking the pint over. “I’d prefer it if you called me Mr Quinlan. It’s just a matter of respect, Jeff. Hope you don’t mind. People round here see you getting all pally and they’ll start taking the piss.”

Jeff pulled out his notebook. “Okay, erm, Mr Quinlan. So do you mind if I make a few notes? It just helps me remember.”

“Fire away, Jeffrey, although, I’ll warn you now, Gambles was a bit of a pussy, to be honest. Always hanging on my coat tails. I can’t ever remember him pulling my fat out of the fire and he was always getting himself into scrapes.”

“I can imagine. He speaks very fondly of you, though. Almost hero worships you…”

Quinlan puffed his chest out and Layla giggled, hugging onto him. “Well, that’s understandable, I suppose,” he said, then his face darkened. “It won’t save him in the end though, you know, Jeff. If he spends too much time poking his nose into other people’s business, he’s goin’ to get it chopped off, isn’t he?”

“Really?”

“Do you know where my ex-wife is, Jeff?” Quinlan said, changing the subject completely.

“No.”

“At your brother’s house feeding him a load of bullshit about Pro-Vets. She’s a crafty one, that Laura,” he said, he looked down at Layla and gave her a squeeze. “I must have a thing about girls with names beginning with ‘L’ mustn’t I?”

Layla giggled again. “Stop it Kyle. You’ll make me jealous.”

“Do you think she still loves your brother, Jeff?”

Jeff felt his throat tighten. “I don’t know. Judging from her actions and what she said on the phone the other day, I’d say not. She’s got more sense.”

Quinlan threw his head back and laughed. “Nice one. Still. I’ve got to keep an eye on her. She’s just waiting for me to trip up, you know. She told me.”

“I don’t really know her that well but one thing I always thought was she’s single-minded and smart. What you said about her keeping you on your toes the other day, that certainly makes sense in a twisted kind of way.”

Quinlan nodded and tapped the side of his head. “You’re wise, Jeff. You’ve got nous. That brother of yours, he’s just a plod, really, isn’t he?”

“I suppose you could say that,” Jeff said, grinning briefly.

“He’s still soft on her, though, isn’t he?”

“None of us like rejection. I think he’ll make a point of getting over her. Can we get back to Josh Gambles, Mr Quinlan?” Jeff said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.

“We can,” Quinlan slurred. “I reckon between you and me, we can make Joshy Gambles even more famous.”

“That’s a strange thing to say, Mr Quinlan,” Jeff said.

Quinlan just tapped the side of his nose. That was the moment that Jeff realised that Quinlan was a powder keg and it was only a matter of time before he exploded.

Chapter 40

Noel Roscoe was worried. He’d watched Terry through the night. They were going to go and find Nicola last night but Terry had fallen into a seizure. Noel wasn’t sure what to do and contemplated calling an ambulance but Terry had recovered and slept. He had a couple more seizures and managed to sleep a little. But when he came round he was muttering to himself and giving Noel sidelong glances. Noel didn’t understand it, the boy had taken his medication so surely he’d be feeling better. Not that Noel was an expert. He’d worked for a guy once who took happy pills and reckoned they took a few days to kick-in. He didn’t even seem very happy after that, to be honest. Maybe