Page 92 of Dead Serious: Case 3 Mr Bruce Reyes

She pushes a little further through the curtain so that her shoulders are now visible.

“Is it gin?” She eyes the box.

“No,” I chuckle. “I brought some supplies. Last time I was here you said you spent a lot of time in the back room there because it’s cosy. I noticed you didn’t have a lot in the way of drinks or snacks, so I brought a new jar of coffee and a box of teabags. I also bought you some biscuits and some milk.”

“Oh,” she replies, deflating a little. “No gin then.”

“No, Viv.” I edge around the counter toward her. “There’s more to life than gin.”

“Says you,” she huffs, eying the box again, this time with a little sniff of interest. “What sort of biscuits?”

“The really good ones.” I grin widely. “I’ve got you chocolate digestives and Jammie Dodgers, plus some others. Didn’t know if you were a custard cream lover?”

“I’ve been known to enjoy one or two.” A small, and I’m sure unintentional, smile pulls at her thin lips. “Come on then. I’ll put the kettle on.”

She disappears behind the swinging beads, and I carefully pick up the box again, then follow her through.

Placing the milk in the small fridge, I grab the pack of cleaning wipes I brought and set about cleaning the thick layer of dust off surfaces while Viv rinses out and refills the kettle.

“Do you have any mugs?” I ask as she plugs it back in and waits for it to boil. “Teaspoons?”

“Dunno.” She looks around, blinking as if for the first time she’s seeing how cluttered and untidy it is. “In here somewhere… maybe. I guess I could go upstairs to the flat and get some.” But there’s a definite reluctance in her tone.

“No need.” I reach back into the box. “I brought a couple of spares with me.”

I draw out the two mugs that I’d snagged from the kitchen, more loaners from Brandy. I didn’t particularly pay attention to which ones I picked up, just that one is pearlescent pink with a sparkly crown on it and the other is white with some sort of chicken design on it.

“Why don’t you sit down and open the biscuits?” I say as I open the box of teabags. “I’ll make these. Do you want tea or coffee?”

“Tea, strong enough to stand your spoon up in.” She drops into her favourite chair and picks the packet of Jammie Dodgers from the box.

“One builder’s tea coming right up.” I smile. “Sugar?”

“Three.” She takes a bite of one of the biscuits.

My brows rise slowly, and I turn back around to the kettle and grimace. “Okaay,” I say slowly under my breath. If I tried to have three sugars in my tea, my teeth would probably fall out. I’ve never understood how people can have it that sweet.

Once it’s ready, I turn and hand over her cup before taking my own and settling on the other chair.

“So, how are you?”

“Same as always.” She shrugs, then lifts the cup to her lips.

Unfortunately for me, I’ve just lifted mine to my mouth when my gaze falls on the design on the side of her mug and I discover it’s not actually a chicken. It’s a rooster, and underneath it, screaming in a loud, shouty font, are the words,I LOVE COCK!

I snort, my hot tea sloshing over my fingers. Setting the cup down quickly, I shake my hand as if that’s going to help the burn. Seeing my reaction, Viv takes a calm sip and then looks down at her cup.

“I’ve been known to enjoy one or two,” she smirks, repeating her comment from earlier.

I shake my head in amusement and glance at my own mug which, underneath the glittery crown, readsI’m a Fucking Queen, Bitches!

Brandy, I curse inwardly with a roll of my eyes.

“What are you really doing here, Tristan?” Viv retrieves another biscuit from the packet. “Because it sure as hell ain’t for the pleasure of my company.”

“I wanted to check in on you.” I pick my mug up once again and wrap my fingers around it, feeling the warmth sinking into my cold bones. “The shop is so quiet now and it feels…”

“Wrong?” Viv says quietly. “Yeah, I noticed it too.”