Page 88 of The Polly Principle (The Laws of Love 2)

“Put—the— gun— down, Ted,” he repeated.

“What, you thought I’d shoot meself?” Ted sounded incredulous.

“I don’t know, Ted. Were you planning to?”

The older man let out a harsh laugh. “Smell that?” He pointed the gun barrel at the bottles. “I used to think that was nectar of the gods. Now it’s the devil’s brew, son. That’s the enemy. I’ve been shooting the fucking bottles.”

Solo nodded. “Okay.”

“It was that or drink the bastards. And where would that have bloody got me?”

Solo nodded again. “So now you’ve done it, you can put the gun down.”

Ted sighed. “Guess I’ll have to clear all this bloody mess up now, won’t I. Still…” He barked out another laugh and relief flooded Solo as, finally, Ted placed the gun against the wall. “Better than clearing up the mess I’d make of myself, Mim and the kids if I drank the stuff.”

Ted slumped back in his seat with a big sigh. “I’m just trying to put off going to that bloody shindig, to be honest. When I came up here it was 50/50 I would drink myself blind, or get rid of it all.”

Solo advanced slowly, eyes scanning between the gun against the wall and Ted’s hands, now in his lap. “You decided to do the latter.”

“Yeah.”

Solo registered the thud of his heart slowing as the adrenaline ran its course. He was close to Ted now, but not too close, not threateningly close.

Ted looked up and a sad smile twisted his mouth. “You want to sit for a bit, lad?”

Solo hesitated, feeling for his phone in his jeans pocket. “Sure. But can I just let your family know you’re okay first?”

Ted’s face in the shadows looked surprised. “Were they worried?”

“It’s nearly time for the party to start, Ted.”

“Oh, bugger.” The older man hung his head, stared at his clasped hands. “Time loses its meaning sometimes, when… Yeah, call Poll. Let her know. She’ll smooth it over with the others.”

Yes, thought Solo. Polly the peacekeeper. He moved away and dialled her number. She picked up straight away.

“Have you found him?”

“Yes, he’s safe.”

“He hasn’t been…?”

“No. No, sober as a judge, aren’t you, Ted?” Solo made his voice jovial. “I’m just going to stay here with him for a while, but tell everyone he’s fine.”

“Is he coming to the party?”

“Soon.”

“Okay.” She clearly got the message.

“I’ll text you if we’re going to be longer than half an hour.”

“Right. Thanks so much for doing this.” Her voice sounded small, exhausted. So unlike the usual ebullient Polly that his heart almost broke as he put his phone away.

“They’re not upset?” Ted asked.

“No, they’re cool.” It was a lie, but clearly it wasn’t going to make Ted feel better hearing they’d been worried sick.

“I’d offer you a drink, but…” Ted said.

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