Page 69 of Final Betrayal

‘How long have you worked in the pharmacy?’

‘A while.’

‘What’s Whyte like to work for?’

‘Richard? He’s fine. He’s not in too often. But now that Amy … now that she isn’t around any more, he’ll have to either employ someone else or take on the mantle himself. Poor man.’

‘Talking of Amy …’ Kirby said, but at that moment the food arrived.

With cups, saucers, teapot and plates, the little round table threatened to topple over. Though Kirby had lost weight in the weeks after Gilly’s death, recently a combination of takeaway food and too much alcohol had restored his considerable bulk. For the first time in a long time, he felt conscious of his size. Was it the way Megan winced when he took a large bite out of his sandwich? Or was it when she put out her hand to stop the table wobbling when his belly nudged it? Whatever it was, it sparked a serious bout of self-consciousness, and Kirby put down the food.

‘Sorry, my appetite has disappeared.’

‘A big man like you has to eat.’ She delicately teased open her own sandwich with a fork.

Was that an insult or genuine concern? He noticed that she had extracted all the red pepper from her sandwich and lined it up neatly on the edge of the plate.

‘Since Gilly … you know … I haven’t been following any regular pattern. In anything, not just food. I just try to do my best in my job, though sometimes it’s way below par.’

‘Did you take compassionate leave?’

‘A week. I nearly drove myself mad. I’m better off at work.’

‘I was like that when my husband left. Can’t stand my own company any more. Me and the four walls don’t get along too well.’

‘How long ago was that?’ If he could keep her talking about herself, then she wouldn’t ask him questions.

‘Oh, a while ago now. I’m over him. He was a prick.’

‘Where is he? Local?’

‘I don’t want to talk about him.’ She took a tiny bite of her food and chewed it delicately.

End of that conversation, Kirby thought, and shoved a giant mouthful of chicken, peppers and chilli into his mouth.

She was eyeing him again.

‘What?’ he said, with his mouth full.

‘Nothing.’ She poured two cups of tea. ‘Milk?’

‘I’ll add my own, thanks.’ This was the most awkward he’d ever felt.

‘My husband was and is a bum. I should never have married him. He tried to fleece me for every penny I had, but I stood up to him. I’m happier without him.’

Kirby nodded, not trusting that he’d say the right thing. He wanted to get her on to safer ground.

‘Tell me about Amy. What was she like? You know, to work with.’

‘Mmm. The detective has an ulterior motive in asking me out to lunch.’

He felt his cheeks flush, but she laughed. ‘It’s fine. Most people want me for what they can get from me. I’ve grown used to it.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …’

‘Don’t worry.’ She sipped some tea and put her cup down. ‘Amy was a challenge. To her father at home and to me at work. She was one of those girls who grew up with privilege. She latched on to Penny Brogan. Different backgrounds. Different upbringing and education. Amy lorded it over Penny. In a way, Penny brought it on herself.’

‘How do you mean?’