got a hard-on under the table?â
Graham swallowed. It looked for a second or two as if the evening was about to end prematurely, but then Katie piped up: âWell, if he has, for Godâs sake give him a few more juicy details, will you? We need all the help we can get and itâs a damned sight cheaper than Viagra.â
Graham leaned into her, reddening. âItâs interesting, thatâs all.â
Paul got up, grabbed his own empty glass and Katieâs, waited for Graham to oblige. âSame again, is it?â
Nobody argued, and as Paul inched out from behind the table, Helen gave him a look that said âgo easyâ.
Got back a big, fat âfuck off â smile.
Paul placed his order at the bar, then slid into the gentsâ. There was a man at the urinals and Paul loitered by the sink until he had left. Then he took out his phone and punched in a number; pressed the handset between his shoulder and his ear and moved across to piss.
The man answered the phone with a grunt, as though heâd been woken up.
âItâs me.â
âWhat do you want, Paul?â
âCan I come and see you tomorrow?â
A pause. The distant clatter of machinery.
âWhy not?â
âTwo-ish OK?â
âIâve got a bit of restoration work on at the minute. You got a pen?â
âIâll remember it,â Paul said.
âWhere are you? Sounds like youâre in a bloody toilet.â
âJust tell me.â
Paul listened to the address. âYou thought about what I said?â
âIâve thought about it, yeah.â
âI need this.â
âTomorrow . . .â
Paul sighed. Zipped himself up.
âBring us a bit of lunch, will you? Something nice.â
Paul turned just as the door opened and Graham walked in. Paul saw him clock the phone and held it up before he put it back in his pocket. âChecking out local restaurants on the WAP,â he said.
Graham just nodded and walked quickly into a cubicle.
Paul stared at himself in the mirror as he smacked the soap dispenser and moved his hands under the tap. He splashed cold water on his face before he walked back out into the pub.
Â
Theo could manage only half a portion of spicy shepherdâs pie made with sweet potatoes and a mouthful or two of green beans.
âWhatâs wrong with it?â his mother asked.
âItâs fine. Iâm just not very hungry.â
Hannah Shirley moved around the table, collecting her own empty plate, and her daughterâs. âIâll leave yours there,â she said. âYou might fancy a little more in a minute.â
âThanks, Mum.â Theo winked at his sister. âItâs really nice.â
âSo, howâs my gorgeous boy?â
âIâm pretty good.â
His mother shook her head and tutted. It was the same game they always played. âYouâre far too big and ugly. Iâm talking about my grandson.â
Theo sucked his teeth, shook his head like he was upset. âYeah, heâs doing OK, too.â
âJust OK?â
âHeâs doing great.â
âAngela drew something for him at school today. Go and get what you drew.â
Theoâs sister raised her eyebrows, didnât move until she was told a second time, then hauled herself into the bedroom.
âHowâs she doing?â Theo asked.
His mother sat down on the edge of an armchair, began to clean her glasses on her sleeve. âPretty good,â she said. âBetter, anyhow.â
Angela wasnât coping as well academically as she had been at the school in Kent; was maybe a year or two behind where she should have been as a ten-year-old. They were thankful that at least her asthma was no worse.
âSheâs got a real talent for art,â Theoâs mum said.
On cue, Angela came back in and pushed a drawing across the table to Theo. A blue sky, a fish-filled sea, and a baby being thrown