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Deliverance. It was a complete shock to his palate.
    The old man coughed again, snorting and gagging a little.
    ‘Time for a fag,’ he mumbled. He picked up a rolly tin and headed towards the door.
    Adam turned back to the bar and examined his glass for a moment, letting the white noise of the pub wash over him.
    ‘All alone?’
    He turned to see Molly in a long green parka. She pulled the hood down and ran a hand through her hair, which fell in long curves to her shoulders.
    ‘Hi,’ said Adam, suddenly self-conscious. ‘Yeah, Roddy’s just gone to the loo, the other two are still at the B&B.’
    Molly smiled. ‘And you wanted to get a head start, eh?’
    ‘Something like that.’ Adam looked round. ‘Where’s your sister?’
    Molly followed his gaze. ‘Meeting her here. She’ll be lurking in the shadows. She’s never far from a drink.’
    Adam fought the urge to look at his heart rate. ‘What can I get you?’
    ‘Pint of Nerabus, thanks.’
    ‘What?’

    Molly pointed to an Islay Ales tap at the bar. ‘Nerabus. A winter warmer.’
    He’d seen the ale taps earlier but hadn’t got one, scared Roddy would take the piss out of him for being an old fogey. He downed what was left of his Deliverance, sending a shudder slithering through his neck and shoulders, and ordered two Nerabus. When he turned back Molly had her coat off. She was wearing a long-sleeved top with a Dangermouse T-shirt over it.
    ‘I used to love Dangermouse,’ said Adam, staring at her breasts.
    ‘Got it online,’ she said. ‘Cool, eh?’
    ‘Very.’ He lifted his gaze eventually. ‘Well, cheers.’
    They clinked glasses and drank. The beer tasted of caramel and chocolate. It was comforting after the madness of Deliverance in his mouth. Adam lifted his glass and looked at the deep ruby colour.
    ‘Very nice,’ he said, nodding.
    ‘Told you.’
    Adam heard a commotion and turned. Roddy and Ash had stumbled into a nearby table and were apologising and laughing. They pitched up to Adam and Molly, wiping their noses, leaning on each other, eyes like pinpricks. Adam cringed.
    ‘I see you’ve already met my little sister,’ said Molly.
    ‘Hey, Moll,’ said Ash, sniffing loudly. ‘You know these guys?’
    Adam and Roddy stared at the two women, Roddy recovering first.
    ‘Looks like we can skip the introductions,’ he said, getting his ridiculous alligator-skin wallet out and riffling the notes stacked inside. ‘Why don’t you all grab a table and I’ll get a round in. It’s time to get this party started.’

9
     
     
    ‘So you guys are smokeheads?’ said Ash, her gaze drifting round the table.
    Ethan and Luke had turned up and the six of them were hurtling headlong towards hammered thanks to Roddy’s magic porridge pot of a wallet. Drunken noise made a swirling blizzard around them.
    ‘Smokeheads?’ said Roddy.
    Molly leaned in to the middle of the table. ‘It’s what we call fans of Islay malts. Outsiders, not the Ileach.’
    ‘The what?’ said Ethan.
    ‘Ileach,’ said Molly. ‘People of Islay. It’s Gaelic.’
    ‘Adam’s the malt expert,’ said Ethan.
    ‘You work in a whisky shop, right?’ said Molly, turning to Adam.
    Adam sipped his dram, a decent Bunnahabhain but nothing special. ‘A tourist trap really, but we have some good stock.’
    Roddy had his arm on the back of Ash’s seat as he shouted over the table. ‘Fuck’s sake, you two are made for each other, a distillery guide and a whisky-shop worker. Imagine the little dram-soaked nippers you’d have, suckled on cask strength.’
    Adam shifted in his seat. ‘Sorry about him,’ he said quietly to Molly. ‘He’s king of the arseholes.’

    ‘Is it him or the coke?’ said Molly.
    Adam raised his eyebrows, but then realised it was obvious what fuelled Roddy’s bullshit. ‘Hard to tell them apart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen him without it.’
    Molly looked at Roddy whispering in Ash’s ear, Ash giggling away. ‘I know what you mean,