argument about who'd done what in the staff canteen the night before. When they reached the landing they paused uncertainly.
“Come on in and take a seat,” I called through. “The kettle's on.”
“Morning Miss Fox.” They did as instructed and made themselves at home on the sofa. As I appeared out of the kitchen, drying my hands on a tea towel, they'd taken their caps off and plonked them upside down on the coffee table. I almost expected them to put their feet up.
I left them to it while I ducked back into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two mugs of instant coffee. “So, what can I do for you
“Yeah, this is getting to be a bit of a habit, isn't it?” the older one said with a grin.
“I didn't realise this was going to happen every weekend or I'd have bought some cake,” I said waspishly, taking the chair across from them.
They looked disappointed, then exchanged glances and pulled on businesslike expressions.
The younger one, Tommy, pulled out his notebook. “We're here because there's been a very serious allegation made against you,” he said, consulting it, “of causing Grievous Bodily Harm during an incident at the New Adelphi Club in Morecambe last night.”
“What?” I realised I had my mouth open and shut it abruptly. “You are joking?” I said, looking from one to the other. Actually, they were both looking faintly amused, as though the whole thing was some gigantic wind-up.
“I'm afraid not, Miss Fox,” Tommy said solemnly. “At the moment no charges are being brought, but we've had an official complaint, backed up by a medical report, that shows one young lad with a forcibly dislocated shoulder, and another with severe facial lacerations and?,” he looked pained, “?a ruptured testicle.”
“Nasty,” agreed the older one, straight-faced but only just. I wondered if they were practising a comedy double act.
“Hang on a minute,” I said, feeling my temper beginning to rise. “Who exactly is it that's made this complaint?”
He read out a female name, which meant nothing to me.
“And who is
“She claims to be the fiancee of one of the injured parties, whom you attacked, without provocation, on the dance floor at the club.” I remembered the dark-haired girl with the pierced tongue.
“OK,” I said, holding up my hands. “I'll admit to the shoulder and I suppose to the testicle, but one of them had already glassed the other one in the face before I got there. That was nothing to do with me.”
“So you just waded in there, two against one, when you claim one of them was armed with an offensive weapon, and you inflicted major injuries on the pair of them?” the older one demanded incredulously. He caught sight of my punchbag on its hook in the corner of the living room. “A bit of a boxer, are you?”
I ignored his last sarky remark. “Yes, he still had the bottle on him when I got there,” I said. “Look, I was employed as a member of the security staff to deal with trouble. I saw the fight and I went to break it up, but they both had a go at me. What was I supposed to do while one had his arm round my throat and the other was trying to disembowel me – reason with them?” Oh God, I sounded like Len.
“And you fought them off?” Tommy asked, a picture of dubiousness.
“That's right.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes!”
“Any ideas what started this fight in the first place?” the older one put in.
I shrugged. “It looked like it was probably a classic case of 'Oi, get your hands off my girlfriend' but it didn't help that he was definitely on something at the time.”
I thought of Marc's warning, delivered almost as a threat.
The pair opposite me exchanged pointed looks again, but to my surprise they didn't pursue it further. On cue they both got to their feet.
The older one screwed his hat into place and regarded me dubiously. “That will be all, for the moment, Miss Fox,” he said. “We'll let you know if any charges are being brought.”
I rose, too, stuffing my hands into my jeans pockets. “Is that likely?”
“Who knows? But if I were you,” he said with a faint patronising tone, “I'd try and stay out of trouble for a while.”
“Thanks a lot,” I muttered under my breath as they disappeared down the staircase. “That's a great help.”
Their footsteps faded as they reached the street. It was only as I turned away from the door that I saw Tommy had left his hat lying upside-down on my coffee table. I crossed the room and picked it up. I was just debating whether I wanted to bother going after them to give it back when I heard a single set of footsteps on the stairs again and Tommy reappeared in the doorway.
I dangled the offending item from a finger. “Forgotten something?” I asked, my voice acidic.
To my surprise, he gave me a level look as he retrieved his headgear. “No, actually,” he said, “I just wanted a chance to have a quiet word with you. On your own, like.”
I raised my eyebrows and said nothing.
Tommy hesitated, glancing uneasily over his shoulder as though his mate might somehow miraculously materialise on the landing behind him.
“I just wanted to give you a word to the wise,” he went on, hurriedly. “On the face of it, you don't look a likely candidate for a Section Twenty assault, know what I mean? You haven't got a record, but quite a few of the guys Quinn's got working for him have. You're mixing in dangerous company if you want to keep your nose clean.”
“You mean you don't believe that's how it happened?” I demanded, feeling my temper rise like a prickle of hairs. “You think that the kid was clean and I just went overboard?”
He flushed, looking uncomfortable. “Quinn swears security's tight enough so that nobody manages to get into the place with anything on them,” he said.
When he saw my face he added hastily, “Not that I take that as gospel, but by the time the boy was through with Casualty and our lads got to see him, he wasn't showing any signs of being on anything. On the other hand,” he went on, “he didn't seem very happy with his girlfriend that she'd got us involved, which was good for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if he hadn't been so dead against pressing formal charges, we'd have been breaking your door down at five this morning and hauling you down the station instead of coming round now for a friendly chat, like.”
“But I was just doing my job,” I protested.
He shrugged. “That's not the impression we got from Quinn's staff. They were dropping hints that you might have gone in too hard, like. You want to watch your back there, Charlie.”
“I will.” I managed to remember my manners enough to be slightly less ungracious. “Thank you, anyway. I appreciate the warning.”
He looked embarrassed. “Yeah, well, you do quite a bit of work up at the Lodge, don't you?” he said. “I get called out to a lot of domestics. Mrs Shelseley's a nice lady.”
“Tom!” yelled a voice from the bottom of the stairs. “Are you going to be all day? Get a shift on, will you.”
“OK,” Tommy called back. “I'm on my way.”
He flashed me a quick smile, jammed his hat on, and trotted away to join his colleague.
I sighed, trying to roll away the tension that was cramping my shoulders. All in all, it wasn't quite the way I'd envisaged starting off my quiet Sunday morning.
***
By the time I'd changed into my leathers, got the bike fired up, and locked the flat, it was well past the eleven-thirty by which I'd promised to be at Jacob and Clare's. I knew Jacob, who timed the cooking of his meals like a covert military operation, was going to be spitting feathers, but I also knew it was going to be easier to explain my lateness face to face.
As I gunned away along the tree-lined quay towards town I should have been having a good time. The
