Hangman's End by Michelle Kidd

Author:Michelle Kidd [Kidd, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Time: 1.25pm

Date: Saturday 24th May 2014

Location: The Bridge Public House, London SE1

“Why have I never heard of this pub, Daniels?” Jack let the sat nav guide him away from the station in the direction of the south bank. “I’ve been in a fair few hostelries in my time, but can’t say I recall this one.”

“It’s changed its name a few times over the years. Bought out by one of those big pub chains who tried to turn it into more of a foodie kind of place - it’s so close to Borough Market, I guess they wanted to try and cash in on the eating out scene. But it never took off and reverted back into more of a drinkers’ pub not so long ago. Back in 1994, when Narelle worked here, it was called The End of the Road.”

Jack couldn’t help but think of the sad irony in the name.

The journey took them less than fifteen minutes, the traffic surprisingly light through the capital on this Saturday lunchtime. Jack found a parking space one street away, and he and Daniels walked the short distance back towards the pub’s entrance.

It looked like a relatively nondescript public house from the outside – with a brick façade opening directly out onto the street. If you blinked, you could easily miss it. There were two entrances – one to the ‘Bar’ and one to the ‘Lounge’ – a common enough set-up for many pubs in years gone by, and whoever had renovated The Bridge had decided to keep with tradition.

In Jack’s eyes, it was a nice touch. He pushed open the door to the ‘Bar’ and stepped inside.

In days gone by, the ‘Bar’ was for the working classes – with spit and sawdust on the floor, men would stand at the bar in their work clothes, downing a well-earned pint after a hard day’s graft. Fast forward to today and the spit and sawdust had been replaced with a patterned carpet and individual seating booths that hugged the walls.

Tastefully redecorated, the pub felt light and airy. The seating was padded leather, the tables highly polished wood. Laminated menus were propped up along the length of the bar which stretched all the way from one side to the other, curving around out of sight to presumably serve the ‘Lounge’ area on the other side.

“May I help you?”

Jack’s attention was drawn to a voice that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Turning around, he spied a shaved head popping up from behind the row of beer pumps. The skin on the top of the man’s head shone from the bright recessed lighting above, and Jack detected several beads of perspiration on his pink forehead. Dragging a crate of bottled beers up onto the surface of the bar, he wiped his brow with a tea towel and smiled.

“Drink?”

Jack was about to decline but then changed his mind. “That would be grand. We’ll have two bottles of whatever non-alcoholic lager you might have.” He pulled out his warrant card and held it up.

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