Alongside both of them was Kay, a divorcee who was the sameage as Kent. He had known her for a long time. They had been in the same yearat school together. Back then, she had been drop-dead gorgeous, a beautiful,blonde bombshell that he and most of the other boys in his class had fantasisedover during their formative years.
She was clever, too, top of the class and tipped for greatthings. But she had been too fond of having a good time and a few bad choicesof men hadn’t helped. Never finding her true vocation in life, she had longpassed the point where she had been someone with potential. Now she was just someonewho could have been someone.
Just like Andy, she was seriously letting herself go. Herface and body had seen better days and she was becoming an irritating lush onthe booze. Despite that, she rarely went home alone. But the men who wanted hernow weren’t ones who wanted to romance her or form a meaningful relationship. Theywere the sad, desperate types that hung around the pubs at closing time, desperatefor sex and not caring how low they stooped to get it. She was a prime targetfor them, even more so as her reputation as an easy lay had grown.
Even the fact that several of her front teeth were missing didn’tseem to put men off. In fact, he had even heard one bloke crudely boast that itenhanced her performance in one particular sexual act. How Kay had lost the teethin the first place was the source of much speculation. She claimed it was downto botched dentistry work but the word on the street was that she’d gone to bedwith the wrong woman’s husband and got her teeth knocked out by the irate wifein return.
Right now she was wobbling around in clothes twenty yearstoo young for her: high heels, a cropped leopard skin T-shirt and a blackleather skirt that she must have used a shoehorn to get into. She was standingat the bar trying to gatecrash Nobby and Craig’s conversation, with an extra-largeglass of white wine in her hand. It was sloshing about all over the place asshe tottered around on her high heels. Amazingly, seemingly more by luck than judgement,none of the wine was escaping from the glass despite rushing up from one sideto the other in time with her wobbles. It was a strange skill that Kent had noticedin a lot of heavy drinkers, including himself.
“My ex-husband was a right bastard, you know,” she wassaying to the others. “Expected me to cook and clean and look after the housefor him, but he wouldn’t let me have a career of my own.”
“Yes, we know,” remarked Craig, in an annoyed voice. “Youhave mentioned it a few times.”
“And do you know what he was doing all the time while I wascleaning for him? Shagging some little tart from the accounts department, that’swhat. She can’t be twenty-five if she’s a day! Now he’s kicked me out and movedthe bitch into our old house. Twenty years of my life I wasted on that man, andwhat have I got to show for it?”
She paused, building up for dramatic effect, “A crappy littleflat above a chip shop, that’s what.”
“What do you fancy in the 12.40 at Ludlow tomorrow, Craig?” askedNobby, completely ignoring her.
Kent had caught the tail-end of this conversation as heapproached the bar. Unfortunately he also caught her eye, and as soon as shespotted him, she made a drunken beeline for him, her wine crashing against the sideof the glass like a wave against a harbour wall in a storm.
“Here’s a man who’ll understand,” she said. “Won’t you, Richard?”she said, flashing her bloodshot eyes as wide as she could at him.
Kent tried to squeeze into the gap between Andy and Nobby’s barstools to try and gain a bit of protection from her.
“Pint of the usual, Richard?” asked Craig. He was alreadypouring it.
“Cheers, Craig.” If he could engage the landlord inconversation and keep his back to Kay, she might give up and go away.
“Where’s that Australian chap you had working here?” asked Kent.“I haven’t seen him for a few days.”
“He’s buggered off back to Oz. Didn’t fancy the winterweather here, apparently. That’s left me short-staffed again.”
Andy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until nowpiped up. “Hey, why don’t you give D.I. Kent here a job? Or should that be ex-D.I.Kent? The word on the street is they’ve given you the push.”
So they knew. Well, that suited him just fine. It would savehim having to explain it to them, just as he hadn’t had to explain it to Debs. Whoeverwas gossiping about him was doing him a favour.
“They haven’t exactly given me the push, Andy. I’ve decided it’stime for a change of career,” said Kent.
“Bollocks they kicked you out,” insisted Andy. “Still, you musthave got a decent payout so how about a round of drinks on your redundancymoney?”
“What do you think? You take the piss out of me and then askfor a drink,” said Kent. “I’m hardly likely to say yes, am I?”
“Well, I can take the piss as much as I like now, can’t I? There’snothing you can do about it.”
“You’re right, Andy, there isn’t. But I can still decide whoI buy drinks for. Craig, get yourself a drink on me. And whatever these two arehaving,” he added, gesturing at Nobby on his right and behind him to where heknew Kay would still be standing.
“Tosser,” said Andy.
Offering Kay a drink might not have been the wisest movebecause it gave her a free pass into the conversation.
“You poor thing, losing your job like that,” she gushed. “Youknow, I don’t care what the others said about you, I always thought you were abrilliant policeman.”
She slammed her glass down on the bar and said, “Make mineanother large white wine please, Craig.” Then she turned back to Kent.
“You must feel awful. Do you want a hug?”
“No, thanks for the offer, but it’s OK,” replied Kent.
“I’ll have a hug,” interrupted Andy, looking up at her, hopefully.
“You won’t,” replied Kay. Although she
