Page 50 of Three Widows

‘Fine, thanks.’ She eased back into the leather upholstery and held her cup in one hand.

He groaned inwardly. Get a grip, he warned himself. He’d already slept with her, seen her naked. Not that he remembered much. Fuck. She’d seen him naked. He felt the blush roast his ears.

‘What’s up? You’ve turned beetroot.’

‘Ah sure, I’m just happy you didn’t stand me up.’

‘Liar. You were thinking about last night.’ She took a sip of her coffee. ‘What you can remember, that is.’

‘Got me in one.’

‘We were both wasted.’ She grinned, and his gaze lingered on her mouth.

‘I can’t argue with that.’

‘It was a good night.’

He blushed even harder. Goddammit, grow up. He was acting like a teenager.

‘Do you want to start again?’ he said. ‘Get to know each other first.’

‘We did kind of put the cart before the horse, didn’t we? My name is Amy Corcoran. I’m thirty-five. I used to work in an office but now I’m in Dolan’s supermarket. I was in foster care as a child and I don’t talk about it. I was once in a serious relationship. I don’t talk about that either. No kids. Work is a bore. One of my colleagues is a pain in the proverbial, but the customers are great. Your turn.’

‘Larry Kirby. Married once. Not any longer.’ He glanced over and found her nodding her head. ‘Work is hectic and stressful. My boss is a tough nut but nice behind it. One of my colleagues is also a pain in the arse. My best friend recently found out he has an eight-year-old son. Now that he’s preoccupied, I worry about losing his friendship.’

He was saved from more personal revelations as Darren placed a perfect pint on the table.

‘Thanks, Dar.’ Kirby handed the empty tumbler to the barman. So much for never drinking whiskey again. A few pints, then home to bed. To sleep. Nothing else.

‘I never could stomach Guinness,’ Amy said.

Safer ground. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing. Great source of iron.’

‘I’ll stick to G&T.’

‘Oh, sorry, I never asked. Can I get you a drink? A real drink.’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

A silent void eased in between them, and Kirby struggled with what to say next. Amy clasped her hands on her knee and stared straight ahead.

He gulped down half the pint, set the glass back on the table and wiped his mouth. ‘It’s good. Best pint in Ragmullin.’

‘Larry, can I ask you a question?’

‘Fire ahead.’

‘Can you tell me about that dead woman who was discovered this morning?’

‘Ah, I can’t, Amy. It’s early days, and details of the investigation have to stay confidential.’

‘Is that the party line?’

‘It’s the truth, but you can get the bones of it on the news. Check it out on your phone.’

‘I did. That’s what has me worried.’

‘Don’t be frightened. It’s a one-off. Must be someone she knew. Usually is.’

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