Page 75 of No Safe Place

Saturday | Evening

Field

Young was sitting in Field’s usual booth at the back of the Volly, a bottle of wine in an ice bucket in front of her. She’d already filled her own glass, and a second stood ready and waiting.

The balmy weather and lack of football meant most of the patrons were in the beer garden. Apart from Field and Young, the only people inside were the staff and a few old blokes on bar stools.

‘Heya,’ Young said, breezily. ‘I got Pinot – hope that’s okay.’

Young didn’t meet Field’s eye as she sat down. She busied herself pouring the wine, and mopping up the drips from the ice bucket with a tissue from her cavernous handbag.

‘I thought this was going to be about the case,’ Field said. ‘I didn’t realise we were on the lash.’

Young shrugged. ‘Well, you haven’t had a break since Tuesday. I thought you might need a breather.’

‘Right.’

They sat in an awkward silence, sipping from their glasses. Field had a headache starting, behind her eyes.

‘So, the raid on Levey’s house was a washout then?’ Young asked.

‘Yep. He’s disappeared without a trace. I’ve got Riley on a few wild goose chases, but I’m not hopeful.’

‘You never know.’ Young stared down at the table.

As they lapsed into silence again, a bloke at the bar opened a bag of crisps. The sound of him eating set Field’s teeth on edge.

She had a creeping suspicion that something was going on. Young was acting like a parent about to break bad news to a five-year-old. Field took Toby for a spontaneous trip to McDonald’s before she told him Jimmy the hamster had died.

Field didn’t really want to be sitting in the Volly drinking Pinot.

Wilson was ordering the tests on the bloodied clothing found at Andy’s house, filling out the forms that Field would need to authorise when she got home. She should have just ignored Young’s text, pretended she hadn’t seen it.

And now she was here, her friend was distracted. Field could sense that there was something she wanted to talk about, that she was working her way up to.

‘Found anyone interesting on the apps lately?’ Field asked.

Young shrugged. ‘If they’ve still got their hair and their own teeth, they’re looking for someone twenty years younger. My last date cried about his divorce over pudding.’

Field grinned. ‘I told you not to go for the fresh divorcees.’

Young’s face stayed deadpan. ‘They’d split five years ago.’

Field snorted. ‘Well, you do know how to pick them.’

Young’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I can’t move for, like, twenty-eight-year-olds.’

‘What?’ Field’s mouth fell open. ‘You can’t date someone younger than your son. Your mother-in-law could be, well. Our age.’

‘I know, I know.’ Young put a hand on her chest. ‘I don’t talk to them. It’s just – you know. A nice ego boost.’

Field snorted again.

‘So—’ Young took a deep breath. ‘Toby called me.’

For one bizarre moment, Field thought it was an extension of their previous conversation. That her son was betraying his boyfriend of five years, to flirt with a woman who had been like a second mother.

‘Toby called you?’ she repeated, blinking.

Young threw her hands up. ‘Don’t be mad at him. Please don’t fly off the handle—’

‘Fly off the handle? When have I ever flown off the handle ?’ Field’s voice was rising.

‘He’s just worried—’

Field spoke over her. ‘When? When did he call you?’

‘This morning.’ Young spoke quickly. ‘He’s just worried about you. It’s not like we discussed you at length or anything. He just wanted—’

‘Worried about me?’ Field screwed her face up in exaggerated confusion. ‘I haven’t seen him since Wednesday night.’

‘I know—’

‘Why didn’t he say anything when I called him on Friday?’ Field shot back. ‘Why didn’t he ask me for a drink tonight?’

She felt drunk with anger, like she’d downed the whole bottle, not a few sips. Her pulse was thundering in her ears, the ache behind her eyes getting worse – and only pissing her off more.

Young was going red, and the old blokes at the bar were staring now. One had a crisp frozen halfway to his face.

‘I just think—’

Field cut her off again. ‘He’s so worried about me, he decided to skip speaking to me altogether, and go straight to one of my work colleagues, did he?’

At this Young scoffed, and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, come on, Liz. I’m hardly a colleague am I? We’ve known each other twenty years.’

‘And we’re working a fucking murder investigation together, Debbie.’ Field was shouting now.

I need to leave.

If she didn’t get out soon, she was going to say something she regretted. She grabbed her phone and swung her bag up onto her shoulder.

Young had flopped back into the booth seat, clutching her wine to her chest, eyes closed.

The defeat on her face took some of the heat out of Field’s anger. But not enough to stop her turning on her heel and marching out of the pub.