obviously wasn’t caring too much about the pub and no-one had asked about or mentioned Dev or Ollie Ingram. So he had taken on shifts – earlies mainly, to reduce suspicion from the missus, and only a few lates. He had got Bob to cover him for any nights he needed to close up. To be honest it was treading water until he would have to tell Monica. There was no way out now.
But for now he needed to speak to Bob, and as he picked up his mobile from the bedside table, he hoped they would be able to get Tom and Spiv together as well and have this out... because if Ian Ingram was right, one of their group of friends must be to blame for the death of Ollie Ingram.
Bob’s face and what he had been saying on the phone shocked Marie. She held her hand over her mouth as Bob finished the conversation.
'Fuck. That’s not good. I knew there was something going on, but not that. You should have said man. You should have fuckin said. I mean, me and Spiv went fuckin lookin for where that other letter came from – and right enough it was Bar-fuckin- Ell'
Marie sat motionless on the edge of the sofa, as Bob paced about in the dining area.
'I'll call him now. No, he left with Pam about 1 or half 1 last night. He's bound to be at his mum’s or her place. I'll go up there if I can't get him. We'll just have to look for him.'
Bob said little more as Aid continued to speak. Marie no longer felt safe. She felt sick. Breakfast could wait now, as there were so many questions that needed answers.
'Well?' Marie asked as Bob signed off with Aid.
'I'll tell you in a minute. I've got to speak to Spiv'
'What is it? What has happened?'
'I'll tell you the noo.' A pause while the phone rang, then clicked onto answer machine…
'Spiv? Spiv? Pick up if you are there...', it clicks on.
'Hello...'
'Hi, Mrs Deuchar. Sorry to bother you, but is Simon there?'
'No, I'm afraid not. He was out last night and didn't come back here, I think he was at Bob's'
'Yeah that’s right. This is Bob'
'Oh, sorry Bob. No, I take it he's at Pammy’s'.
'Yeah, no problem. If you could ask him to give me a call. Much appreciated'
'Yes, I will, is everything OK?'
'Yeah, I'm sure it will be.'
Bob hung up, Marie tried questioning him again, but he needed to focus, and Marie would have to wait.
'Wait a minute! Would you? Please?' his outstretched hand was meant to be protective, but just appeared rude.
Marie slunk into the kitchen and, without thinking, put on the kettle and gathered the bottles and cans from last night and put them into a recycling bin.
Bob tried Spiv's phone. It rang out. He tried again. It rang out. Once more.
'Hi, is that you Bob?'
'Yeah, Pam, thank god. Is Spiv there?'
'No, sorry, he just left here and he's left his phone. What’s up?'
'Where is he going?'
'I don't know – his mum’s?'
'Shit. Listen if he comes back, get him to call me. It is urgent. We need to meet up.'
'Bob, whats happening? This sounds serious'.
'It appears so.'
'What is it?'
Bob spend a few moments explaining the seriousness of the situation. There are details which just don’t add up, and they needed Spiv to give them good reason why.
'Just get Spiv to phone, because I think there is a real chance that the police will be reopening Dev's murder case – if Ingram appeals - and we all need to know exactly what happened last year.'
'OK Bob, I will. Listen, I have to go but I'll get him to call.'
'Cheers. Speak later'.
'Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?'
Bob sat at the dining room table staring, deep in thought at the walls around him, knowing he couldn't get Spiv unless he walked the streets looking for him.. They would catch up with him sooner or later.
'It appears Ian Ingram is inventing stories that one of us killed his daughter. He has all our names. He has information about us all. You, me, Aid, Mon, Tom, Emm, Pam, Spiv.‘
‘Inventing stories?’
‘That’s what we thought. What we think?’
