Lazybones

'It's just a question of money. I need to do a bit more top-end work for Sorry or Deutsche Bank and make a few less crappy training videos.'

'What are you doing at the moment?' Thorne said. Jameson took a swig from a bottle of Budvar. 'Oh, it's riveting stuff right now. An ongoing local authority gig and some adverts for QVC.'

Thorne grabbed some crisps from an open bag in front of him. 'Oh, so they're your fault, are they?'

'Sorry,' Jameson said, smiling, holding up his hands. Holland smirked at Thorne. 'I didn't have you down as a fan of the shopping channel.'

'I have Sky for the football, obviously.' Thorne shoved the crisps into his mouth, wiped his fingers. 'But when I've got nothing better to do late at night, I like to watch some failed actor with an orange face try and sell me cleaning equipment, yes.'

The three sat in silence for a while. Thorne looked out of the window and across to where he'd parked the car. Holland sipped his pint, nodded his head to the low-level Coldplay track, while Jameson looked eagerly across to where Denise and Eve were standing at the bar.

The car was safe and still looking good. Thorne turned back and stared around. It was a newish but already quietly trendy gastro-pub. Eve had said there was a decent restaurant in a room out the back but Thorne was happy enough where they were, with Belgian lager on draft and olives in bowls on the bar. They sat in a corner, around a scarred, refectory-type table on an assortment of chairs. Thorne had bagged a battered but comfortable leather armchair, and was doing his best to keep a similar one next to him free for Eve. Though the place was popular, the bar itself was not crowded. Most people seemed eager to take advantage of the warm night and had gathered around the few tables on the pavement outside. The bar wasn't air-conditioned, but fans were spinning around overhead and the beer – as much as Thorne was allowing himself to drink – was cold.

The car was partly responsible for his mood, but Thorne was feeling as genuinely relaxed as he had for quite some while. Eve and Denise came back with more beers and a bottle of wine, and having clearly geed themselves up at the bar, gently took the piss out of Holland, Thorne and Jameson, for no better reason than that they were blokes. The men, for all their protestations and denials, enjoyed every minute of it, Thorne especially relishing the sort of attention he hadn't enjoyed for a very long time. They talked about football and television and house prices. And inevitably, work.

'Come on then, Dave,' Denise said. 'Tell us about this nutter you're after, the one who was on Eve's answering machine…'

Eve tried to interrupt. 'Den…!' She turned to Thorne. 'Sorry…'

Thorne shrugged, not caring. 'It's fine.'

'Well, yes, he's a nutter,' Holland said. 'And yes, we're after him. Still after him.'

'He sounds twisted,' Jameson said. 'Fascinating, though…'

Denise leaned forward towards Holland. 'You know there's people like that around, course you do. When you've got a connection with one of them, though, however tenuous, it's freaky.'

'Don't worry,' Holland said. 'You're not his type.'

'I know. He hunts men, doesn't he? Men who've hurt women…'

There was a short but noticeably uncomfortable silence, which Denise broke as if it had never happened.

'People are always going to be fascinated by this sort of stuff though, aren't they? It's a bit ghoulish, I suppose, but it's a damn sight more interesting than computers…'

Thorne took this as the cue to retell, for Holland's benefit, his joke about what a PC 'going down' meant in their line of work. The others laughed graciously, and Denise and Ben carried on chatting to Holland about the job. Whether they liked him or were just trying to make sure he didn't feel like a gooseberry, it gave Thorne the chance to talk to Eve.

He bumped his chair up close to hers and leaned across.

'This was a good idea,' he said.

'You weren't sure though, were you?' She nodded towards Holland.

'So you brought reinforcements along…'

'Are you pissed off?.'

'I was an hour ago, yes. It's fine though.'

Thorne reached for his drink. 'I just wanted to show him the car…'

Eve gave him a long look. It was clear that she didn't quite believe him. 'So, apart from your case getting a bit more complicated, what happened between the night you came round for dinner and now?'

Thorne glanced down, swilled the beer around in his glass, said nothing.

'I thought you were really keen. You said as much.'

I was…'

'Even that night when you walked me back after we'd been in the pub you were a bit weird. Ever since you went to that wedding, in fact

…'

Thorne bent his head and lowered his voice. 'Look, I just go a bit mental when it looks like things might get serious. I don't know what I want, and I start to get… '

'Serious? We haven't even slept together yet…'

'That's exactly what I mean. It looked like we were going to. You know, it was on the cards, so maybe I just started backing away a bit.'

'All that bollocks with the new bed…'

'I suppose so.'

Eve turned to look at him. She waited a second or two until he raised his head and met her stare. 'So, what do you want now, Tom?'

A smile spread slowly across Thorne's face. He leaned over, his arm dropping down into the well of Eve's chair and slipping behind her waist. 'I want to go to a hotel…'

For a moment Eve looked shocked, but then she began to smile too.

'What, tonight?'

'Why not? Shop's shut tomorrow, isn't it? I've got a nice car outside…',

Eve looked across to where Denise and Jameson were still deep in conversation with Holland. 'God, it's a fantastic idea, but it's a bit awkward. It's Den's birthday…'

'Pretend it's mine.'

'I don't know, I can't just bugger off.'

'She won't mind.'

Eve grabbed Thorne's hand and squeezed. 'Let me see what I can do…'

An hour later, as they hovered outside, saying goodbyes, Eve took Thorne's arm and spun him around. 'I don't think tonight's a good idea.'

'Did you have a word with Denise?' He looked across to where Eve's flatmate was kissing Holland on both cheeks. Behind them, Jameson stood waiting, hands thrust into his pockets. Denise caught Thorne's eye and gave him an odd smile…

'Not that I'm exactly in any fit state,' Eve said. 'I'd already had a bottle of red wine before you propositioned me…'

Thorne grinned. 'Trust me, the more pissed you are, the better it'll seem.'

'What about next weekend? We could check into a nice hotel on the coast for a couple of nights.' She looked up at him and nodded slowly. It must have been clear from his expression. 'Right, I know…'

'Sorry. Until this case is over, I can't commit to anything like… Shit, a whole weekend away.., it just isn't going to happen.'

'It was a stupid idea…'

'It was a great idea. Let's go out one night next week. Saturday, or before…'

'Next Saturday's good.'

'Right…' They took a few steps along the pavement, away from the bar. 'Come on, it's still not too late. I'll swing for a really nice hotel, honestly. West End somewhere, full English breakfast…'

She put her hands around his neck and pulled him towards her. She whispered it in his ear before she kissed him softly on the cheek.