coming.’
‘Not from any of those barrels, it’s not,’ he said. ‘Get yourself down the old stairs and do the thing properly.’
‘I’m not paid to paddle around in a flooded cellar, even for you Dad,’ she replied.
The beer streamed steadily into the glass. Percy looked glum. ‘Si’s got that big pump going day and night down there. What’s the matter with you, girl?’
‘It packed in. So it’s the ordinary stuff or nothing for you tonight and that’s all there is to it.’ She slapped the travel brochure she had been reading down on the bar in front of her father.
Percy eyed the picture on the front cover. ‘It comes to something when a man can’t rely on his own flesh and blood to pour a decent pint for him after a hard day’s graft,’ he grumbled. ‘I can’t recall booking me and your mother for a skiing holiday.’
‘It’s for me and Bry. Girls’ trip. You said you’d pay.’
‘Did I?’
She gave him the beer. ‘This might help you remember.’
‘I doubt it.’ He looked around the nearly empty room. ‘It’s quiet in here tonight, unless those coats up there on the hooks came in on the back of a set of ghosts.’
‘They’re watching the football match,’ said Genista.
Behind the door marked SNOOKER , a murmur of voices rose and fell, followed by a sudden cheer.
‘Sounds like they’ve just scored,’ remarked John.
The telephone rang. Genista answered it. ‘The White Horse.’ She rubbed at a chip in her nail varnish and glanced at her hair in the mirrored backdrop behind the bar. ‘Yes… mmm… yes… all right then.’ She hung up and opened the door to the kitchen, shouting, ‘Two, ten minutes, Mads!’
John put down his empty mug. ‘There’s a couple more down here need filling,’ he said. ‘And add the fire boys to the tab to get their game going.’
‘Good man!’ said Jack approvingly.
‘I owe you one, John,’ said Pete.
Genista poured the beer. Blue crept out of his bed in the inglenook and stretched out on the rug in front of the fire. Percy wrote in his notebook. The darts thudded into the board on the wall. The voices murmured in the snooker room. John fished in his pocket for the brass key to the butler’s pantry and slipped it to Alan.
‘There’s something you’ll be needing to check over behind that old door we found in the office when you’ve got a moment to yourself,’ he whispered.
‘What’s going on then?’
‘You’ll see.’
The kitchen door swung open. Maddie appeared with a tray of clean glasses.
‘Did you take their order?’ she asked Genista.
‘Who for?’
‘Whoever phoned?’
‘No. It wasn’t one of the regulars.’
‘Did you take the name?’
‘No. I think it was Winston or Watson. I forgot to write it down. Nice voice.’
Obviously a man , thought Maddie wryly. She put down the tray. ‘These could do with a wipe.’
‘Okay.’ Genista picked up a cloth.
Blue opened one eye, hearing voices at the door. A quick draught from the wet and windy night outside blew smoke down the chimney and out into the room as a tall, broad shouldered, red-haired man came in and wiped his shoes on the sodden lump of a doormat. The young man with black curly hair following behind did the same. They came to the bar where Maddie was checking the barrels.
‘I booked a table a few minutes ago,’ said the man to her back. ‘I telephoned. Perhaps it was you I spoke to.’
She turned. Their eyes met. Alan saw her flush, look down and look up again. The man smiled. Genista stepped between them before Maddie had time to reply.
‘No, it was me,’ she said. ‘You spoke to me.’
The man looked down at the small and determined green-eyed woman, obviously taken aback. He recovered himself and smiled again. ‘Can we hang up our coats? I’m afraid they are rather wet.’
‘Of course you can. Give them to me.’
He unwound the long scarf from around his neck and laid it on top of the coats. Genista’s eyes widened when she
‘Not from any of those barrels, it’s not,’ he said. ‘Get yourself down the old stairs and do the thing properly.’
‘I’m not paid to paddle around in a flooded cellar, even for you Dad,’ she replied.
The beer streamed steadily into the glass. Percy looked glum. ‘Si’s got that big pump going day and night down there. What’s the matter with you, girl?’
‘It packed in. So it’s the ordinary stuff or nothing for you tonight and that’s all there is to it.’ She slapped the travel brochure she had been reading down on the bar in front of her father.
Percy eyed the picture on the front cover. ‘It comes to something when a man can’t rely on his own flesh and blood to pour a decent pint for him after a hard day’s graft,’ he grumbled. ‘I can’t recall booking me and your mother for a skiing holiday.’
‘It’s for me and Bry. Girls’ trip. You said you’d pay.’
‘Did I?’
She gave him the beer. ‘This might help you remember.’
‘I doubt it.’ He looked around the nearly empty room. ‘It’s quiet in here tonight, unless those coats up there on the hooks came in on the back of a set of ghosts.’
‘They’re watching the football match,’ said Genista.
Behind the door marked SNOOKER , a murmur of voices rose and fell, followed by a sudden cheer.
‘Sounds like they’ve just scored,’ remarked John.
The telephone rang. Genista answered it. ‘The White Horse.’ She rubbed at a chip in her nail varnish and glanced at her hair in the mirrored backdrop behind the bar. ‘Yes… mmm… yes… all right then.’ She hung up and opened the door to the kitchen, shouting, ‘Two, ten minutes, Mads!’
John put down his empty mug. ‘There’s a couple more down here need filling,’ he said. ‘And add the fire boys to the tab to get their game going.’
‘Good man!’ said Jack approvingly.
‘I owe you one, John,’ said Pete.
Genista poured the beer. Blue crept out of his bed in the inglenook and stretched out on the rug in front of the fire. Percy wrote in his notebook. The darts thudded into the board on the wall. The voices murmured in the snooker room. John fished in his pocket for the brass key to the butler’s pantry and slipped it to Alan.
‘There’s something you’ll be needing to check over behind that old door we found in the office when you’ve got a moment to yourself,’ he whispered.
‘What’s going on then?’
‘You’ll see.’
The kitchen door swung open. Maddie appeared with a tray of clean glasses.
‘Did you take their order?’ she asked Genista.
‘Who for?’
‘Whoever phoned?’
‘No. It wasn’t one of the regulars.’
‘Did you take the name?’
‘No. I think it was Winston or Watson. I forgot to write it down. Nice voice.’
Obviously a man , thought Maddie wryly. She put down the tray. ‘These could do with a wipe.’
‘Okay.’ Genista picked up a cloth.
Blue opened one eye, hearing voices at the door. A quick draught from the wet and windy night outside blew smoke down the chimney and out into the room as a tall, broad shouldered, red-haired man came in and wiped his shoes on the sodden lump of a doormat. The young man with black curly hair following behind did the same. They came to the bar where Maddie was checking the barrels.
‘I booked a table a few minutes ago,’ said the man to her back. ‘I telephoned. Perhaps it was you I spoke to.’
She turned. Their eyes met. Alan saw her flush, look down and look up again. The man smiled. Genista stepped between them before Maddie had time to reply.
‘No, it was me,’ she said. ‘You spoke to me.’
The man looked down at the small and determined green-eyed woman, obviously taken aback. He recovered himself and smiled again. ‘Can we hang up our coats? I’m afraid they are rather wet.’
‘Of course you can. Give them to me.’
He unwound the long scarf from around his neck and laid it on top of the coats. Genista’s eyes widened when she
Similar Books
