The Price to Pay (Dakar and Scott Book 2) by Euan B. Pollock

Author:Euan B. Pollock [Pollock, Euan B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2018-12-15T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

Stewart gripped the table edge. Yup, absolutely solid, made of heavy wood. If Dakar went off the deep end, at least he’d have some trouble ripping the place up.

They were sitting at a table in Whisky. Stewart far preferred pubs to bars, and Whisky was certainly the former. Everything was more solid than its bar equivalent, from the furniture right through to the food and drink. Wooden tables that looked like they could withstand the nuclear apocalypse, ‘pub grub’ that put a bowling ball in your stomach and drinks called things like ‘heavy’ because they were basically a meal in a pint glass.

Bars, on the other hand, were more lightweight and fancy. Tables in weird shapes and sizes, the only food finger food and expensive drinks with odd names that came in tall glasses and small measures. Stewart always felt bars were wrong in Scotland. They belonged in places like New York, but not here. The Scottish psyche was born of terrible weather and fights for survival. Pubs reflected that. Bars did not.

Whisky was most certainly a pub pub, one of the newer variants that maintained the solid furnishings and refreshments while cleaning the place up and letting some light in, so it seemed a place you might actually want to be rather than be driven into by depression and loneliness. The wooden chairs had decorated cushions, and the wooded fixtures looked like they’d been freshened up too. The smoking ban had helped too, of course, removing the blanket of smoke that normally provided a low ceiling, at the same time upping Scotland’s general life expectancy by at least a few years.

Stewart was feeling the solidness of the table with a certain amount of relief because when they had first come in Dakar had paused for a few seconds, then plunged back out the door again. He re-entered a few moments later, swept a gaze around the place with narrowed eyes, and only then gone over to one of the wooden tables, Stewart following him tamely over.

The pub was almost entirely empty, minus two or three old men sitting at the bar, slowly supping their drinks/meals. They looked suspiciously at Dakar and Stewart, particularly after Dakar’s display, but Stewart ignored them. The old days of walking into a pub and facing down the locals had now disappeared, in big cities at least. They were the ones who were living in the past.

Stewart’s stomach had been letting him know that it had been a while since breakfast, and it was with great pleasure he ordered fish and chips with mushy peas. Combined with plenty of tartare sauce and some ketchup, it was basically the meal of champions. Dakar asked for water, and after a second’s hesitation, Stewart asked for some too.

Stewart eyed Dakar nervously. The guy was pretty preoccupied with something. Stewart pulled out his notes and checked his watch. Just before half twelve. “So, we’ll talk to Sandra first and then maybe try and find Jane and Russell?”

But Dakar was standing up, looking over at the door.

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