No Name Lane by Howard Linskey

Author:Howard Linskey [Linskey, Howard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780718180331
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2015-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Andrew Foster had long since left the Greyhound, but he promised to be back in a few hours, ‘It’s quiz night at the Lion!’ he reminded Tom, as if this was the undisputed highlight of the week. Tom was still sitting there, nursing a beer, making it last. He didn’t want to spend too much money or end up drunk at lunchtime. It was more than four hours since he’d left the message with Jennifer and still the Doc had not called him back. He couldn’t wait any longer.

He left the Greyhound to get some air then bought a phone card from the village shop, which he used in a draughty telephone box that had half of its windows missing.

Jennifer was even less amused this time. ‘I gave him the message,’ she assured him through what must have been clenched teeth.

‘You told him I had a story, one he would like?’

‘That was the message,’ she seemed to think he was questioning her professionalism now.

‘And what did he say?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing? He must have said something.’

‘He just grunted, like he does when he’s preoccupied.’

‘But is he going to call me?’

‘Has he called you?’

‘No,’ he said and she waited for him to cotton on. ‘He’s not going to call, is he?’ and when she didn’t even bother to answer, he added, ‘Jennifer, it’s been a pleasure speaking to you, as always,’ then he hung up before she could respond.

When Tom got off the line, his first instinct was to slam the receiver into the phone repeatedly until it shattered into dozens of tiny, plastic pieces. It took him a minute or two to calm down and come up with a plan B and even longer to wonder if he had the balls to actually implement it. If the Doc ever found out what he was about to do he’d fire Tom on the spot, maybe even take legal action against him. Tom would be blacklisted forever in the tabloid world but it looked as if that might be about to happen to him in any case and, if his contract expired without renewal, in a few weeks he’d be broke. He desperately needed money and he had to get the story he was sitting on out there before someone else did.

Tom fished inside his jacket pocket for his contact book, leafed through it until he found the number he was looking for, then dialled.

‘Daily Mirror,’ said an unfamiliar voice.

‘Put me through to the news desk …’

There was a begrudging acceptance at the Messenger that Helen had done a good job. She had returned with quotes from the headmaster of Great Middleton School and woven them into an insightful news story about the mysterious body-in-the-field, which had shocked a village already reeling from the disappearance of one of its children. It would probably knock everything else off the next morning’s front page. She was however left with the impression that she was no better thought of for any of this and that took much of the gloss from what should have been a big moment for her.

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