The Dead Wife by Sue Fortin

Author:Sue Fortin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2019-07-03T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Nag’s Head Pub, Sunday, 12 May, 6 p.m.

The pub had that lazy Sunday evening atmosphere to it. The hustle and bustle of the lunchtime trade was now over and a more relaxed feel had settled, with the quiet conversation of a few customers mingling with the sound of the background music. It was comfortable and welcoming, Steph thought as she picked up a bar menu, not because she was hungry but to give her a little longer to take in her surroundings and suss out the bar staff.

There was a man and a woman serving behind the bar. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties and the man older, possibly late thirties. They didn’t look like a couple and Steph wondered if the man was Cameron. She had no idea what a typical pub landlord cum yoga instructor was supposed to look like. The man looked up and gave her a nod of acknowledgement as he pulled a pint and placed it on the bar for a customer.

‘Cheers, Cam,’ said the customer, taking a £5 note from his wallet and passing it over.

So he was Cameron, Steph thought. He was good-looking, she decided as she took a closer look at him; his blond hair was cut short at the sides and a little longer on the top. He had good cheekbones and, as he turned back from giving the customer his change, he smiled at Steph, giving her the full benefit of his white teeth and notably green eyes.

‘What can I get you?’ he asked, coming over, fixing his gaze on her in such a way that Steph could feel herself almost blush and was then immediately annoyed with herself for such a reaction. She wondered if Elizabeth had been flustered at just the sight of Cameron. It probably hadn’t been difficult to flirt a little and then for one thing to lead to another. In that one look, Steph got the distinct impression that Cameron, or Cam, as the man had called him, was permanently on the prowl.

‘Diet Coke, please,’ she said, realising he was waiting for her response.

‘Ice?’

There was that smile again; it was almost cheeky. How could anyone make a simple question seem as though they were already sharing a private joke?

‘Please,’ Steph replied, hoping her flush hadn’t reached her face.

He placed the drink in front of her. ‘What else can I do for you?’ he asked, resting an arm casually across the pumps. He now somehow managed to add a mischievous twinkle to his eyes.

Get a grip, girl, Steph scolded herself. She took a sip of her drink. ‘Actually, I’m looking for Cameron,’ she said, realising she had no idea of his surname. She gave a smile, hoping it would have the same hypnotic effect as his.

Cameron raised an eyebrow. ‘Who’s asking?’

‘I’m a friend of Elizabeth Sinclair,’ said Steph carefully, and instantly registered the slight change in his demeanour. The muscles in his jaw twitched and his shoulders tightened.

‘And?’ he said after a long pause.

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