Page 16 of Provoked
“Everyone needs help sometimes.”
“I thank you for your kindness, Davy, but I couldn’t accept.”
“Euan, I don’t mind—”
“If you want to help me, all you need to do is try to find Lees.” He paused before adding, “Have you managed to find anything out?”
Euan’s pride was frustrating, but David knew he’d be the same in the lad’s shoes, so he reluctantly acceded to Euan’s change of subject and began to discuss the results of his enquiries.
“I have a few members of the faculty still to rule out,” he concluded, “but so far, I’ve heard nothing to suggest there’s any woman called Isabella with an advocate father.”
“You don’t think she’s real, do you?”
David shrugged. “We both know that Lees could’ve been making her up as part of his story. Even if she’s real, what he told Peter could be part truth and part lies. Her real name could be different.”
Euan stared into the fire. “Peter said Lees was as drunk as a man can be and still able to talk. He was convinced Lees told him the truth that night.” Euan glanced at David again, his gaze a little desperate. “That’s all I have to go on.”
“I’ll keep looking into it,” David assured him. “I’ve not completely eliminated the possibility that it’s true. Not yet.”
The barmaid arrived with their dinner then. The plates she set down on the table were made of tin and very old. Each plate held two fat sausages smothered in onions. Hunks of bread were already soaking up the thick brown gravy.
Euan waited until David began eating before he touched his own dinner, but once he started, he ate quickly, as though he was famished. He’d finished his whole plate by the time David had eaten just one of his sausages. Noticing this, David pushed his plate towards the other man.
“I ate earlier,” he lied. “Do you want the rest of this?”
He feigned disinterest in Euan’s answer, turning his attention to his ale and drinking deeply. There was a long, still pause, then the younger man drew the plate towards him and bent his head to eat again. He ate David’s second sausage and meticulously scooped up all the onions and gravy with the bread. There wasn’t a crumb on either plate when he was done.
The barmaid came to collect the plates while Euan was pissing outside.
“Another ale and a wee jug of whisky,” David ordered, taking a purse of coins out of his coat pocket. “And I’ll pay you now.”
She named a sum, and he counted the coins into her hand; then she sailed away, her big bosom like the prow of a ship.
When Euan came back inside, he gave the fresh tankard waiting for him a troubled look. David knew if he met Euan’s eyes, the lad would protest, so he ignored him, giving him time to settle. He concentrated on his own drink instead, filling the little dram glass the barmaid had brought him almost to the brim. When he raised it to his lips, he didn’t drink immediately, just let the whisky lap at his mouth like a wave. The alcohol turned to vapour as soon as it touched him, alchemising into a cool breath of whisky on his lips. A wee kiss of it before he tipped the glass and let the first wet burn slide into his mouth and down his throat.
It was good, that feeling. He liked everything about it: the taste of the whisky, its fire. The way it numbed his overwrought mind; the way it made him feel—after a while—more relaxed and expansive.
He should watch himself, though. He didn’t feel as light-headed or hungry as when he’d left the library, but still, there wasn’t much in his stomach. He’d be dead drunk after a few drams at this rate.
“Thank you for the food, Davy. And the ale.”
“You’re welcome.” David smiled.
“I’ll pay you back.”
“No need.”
“Nevertheless.”
“Are you doing anything else to try to find Lees?” David asked, changing the subject. “Other than waiting to hear from me, I mean.”
“I’ve been looking for him,” Euan admitted. “I walk round the city every day. I’m getting to know Edinburgh well.”
“You would recognise him, then?”
The young man nodded. “I used to go to meetings with Peter, till he made me stop. I met Lees a couple of times.”
“So what does he look like?”