but I mustn’t stay,’ said the Yank. ‘Just came out to drop an express packet into the post office. My niece’s birthday back home. Almost forgot, which would have been a capital offence. Felt I’d earned a quick one, but I need to be back up at the clinic pretty well straightaway.’
I weren’t so ill I didn’t notice there were too much bloody detail. Think a shrink would know summat like that. Plus, most country post offices I’d come across shut up at midday on a Saturday.
The door opened again. This were getting like a French farce. New arrival were a well set-up young fellow, one of them craggy faces that has five o’clock shadow at half past one. Looked like he reckoned the world owed him a living and the women in it owed him a shagging.
He said, ‘Alan, any sign of my aunt?’
‘Been and gone. Says she’ll see you in Moby’s.’
‘Oh dear. Bit pissed off, is she? That will mean the lobster thermidor, I fear. But then she was never going to choose the monk fish pâté, was she?’
He made a wry sort of face to show he was joking, only he wasn’t.
Now he let himself take in the others in the bar. Worzel Gummidge he ignored, me and Roote he shot a cocky grin at and said, ‘Ah Franny, nursy taking you for a stroll?’, then he did a double take as if he’d just noticed Fester and cried, ‘Is that you, Dr Feldenhammer? Didn’t recognize you in a sitting position, sir. I hope I find you well. Mustn’t keep auntie waiting.’
Then he left, whistling raucously.
I saw Festerwhanger flush the colour of old port. Either he were seriously narked or he was going to have a seizure.
He downed the rest of his drink like he needed it, ice cubes clanging against his snowy teeth hard enough to dislodge a polar bear, slid off his stool, gave the landlord a curt nod, and marched through the door.
I said to Roote, ‘Got that wrong, didn’t you, lad?’
He said, ‘I just think the game changed, but never fear, he’ll remember. That tune Teddy Denham was whistling, I’m trying to recall what it is. I’ve got it on the tip of my tongue.’
Meaning he hadn’t the faintest idea but would be glad to know what caused the Yank doctor to lose his cool. Didn’t miss much, our Franny.
‘Sorry, no idea,’ I said. Which was a lie. I’d recognized the notes of a little ditty I’ve heard belted out at the back of rugby coaches more times than I care to remember.
Don’t expect Roote spent much time in rugby coaches, and I didn’t see any reason why I should enlighten him.
Roote were giving me one of his looks which said he knew I were holding out on him. Then his expression turned to I-told-you-so! as the door opened again and Fester stuck his head back in.
‘It just occurred to me, Mr Dalziel – would you like a lift back up to the Home? Or do you have transport arranged?’
I suppose I could’ve told him I preferred to walk. Or that Roote were giving me a lift. But sod that. Only a fool turns down what he wants out of pride, and what I really wanted now were to crash out in my pit.
‘Nay,’ I said. ‘That ’ud be grand.’
I looked at my beer glass. It were half full. I realized I didn’t want it.
Only a fool sups what he don’t want out of pride.
But I could feel Roote watching me, and this time pride won.
I drained the glass, set it down, and hauled myself out of my chair.
‘Thanks, mate,’ I said to the landlord. ‘Good pint that.’
‘Thank you, sir. Hope we see you again soon,’ he said.
‘Never fret, I’ll be back.’
Roote caught my arm and said in a low voice, ‘Mr Dalziel, just one thing. About Mr Pascoe, I’ll leave it up to you.’
Whether I told him or not, he meant.
I gave him a nod and left.
I wouldn’t trust Roote as far as I could throw him, which, the way I were feeling just then, was about half a yard. But credit where due, I couldn’t fault him over how he’d dealt with Pete.
Which don’t stop me wondering now they’ve finally got me tucked up in bed and talking to myself under the sheet, if one of the reasons Franny Roote took off abroad with no forwarding address was ’cos he didn’t want Pete Pascoe feeling responsible for him, then why when he came back to England did he opt to settle here in Mid-Yorkshire? OK it’s right on the fringes of our patch, but it’s still our patch!
Can’t get that tune buffalo woman’s nephew were whistling out of my mind. How did the words go? Let’s see … summat about an Indian maid … aye, that’s it!
There once was an Indian maid, and she was sore afraid that some buckaroo would stick it up her flue as she lay in the shade.
And so on. Gets dirtier. Not the kind of thing I’d expect Fester to choose for his Desert Island Discs. And why should it bother him so much?
Questions, questions, lots and lots of sodding questions hopping madly round my mind to that jaunty little tune. But it’s always the same one leading the dance.
What the fuck is Roote really up to here in Sandytown?
Never fear, one way or another, I’ll find out afore I go!
But all I want to do now is sleep.
So it’s goodnight from you, Mildred, and it’s goodnight from
| FROM: | [email protected] |
| TO: | [email protected] |
| SUBJECT: | Min of Information! |
Hi Cass!
Thanks for pic. He is truly gorgeous! I want one of my own. Does he have a brother? Nice smile. Whats he got to smile about – I wonder?!!
Back to dull old Sandytown! After lunch yesterday Tom excused himself – to catch up with all the stuff that had piled up in his absence – & Min – whos clearly decided to make me her own! – asked me if Id like to go swimming with her. I thought she was being kind – & meant the sea – & said yes please – but it turned out she meant the swimming pool at this 5 star hotel Tom told us about – the Brereton Manor. Seems the Parkers have membership of the Health & Leisure Club – natch – but the kids arent allowed in without a responsible adult – so Min the minx had elected me! Mary tried to rescue me – but I said – no problem – & off we went.
Minnie led me over the road – & through a gate – then across a golf course that
