The Perfect Girl (May Queen Killers Book 1) by Lorna Dounaeva

Author:Lorna Dounaeva [Dounaeva, Lorna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-04-30T22:00:00+00:00

20

Dylan staggered into the tea shop, clutching his stomach like a woman in labour.

“What happened to you?” Jock asked.

He had a face like a bruised banana. His eyes were red and bloodshot and his nose was purple and swollen.

“I think somebody slipped a hangover in my drink.”

He sat down gingerly as if he thought bits would come off him.

“That bad?”

“It’s my stomach,” Dylan moaned. “Right now, I can’t trust my arse with a fart.”

Jock inched his chair away a little.

“You look as rough as the bottom of a bird cage,” Angie said, her arms folded.

“Rougher,” Dylan said.

“Right, I’m making you a cup of my special tea.”

“Oh no! I’m feeling better already!”

But there was no arguing with Angie. He turned his head to look at Jock. “Stop blinking, will you? You’re giving me a headache.”

Jock watched him carefully. He looked rather pathetic, lying back against the edge of his seat.

Angie returned with an extremely pungent brew. “Now drink this down.”

“What’s in that?” Jock asked, covering his nose with his hand.

“Ah, you know. Eye of newt, wart of toad.”

“All I need is a little hair of the dog!”

“Just get it down your neck. Go on. Not a word out of you till you do.”

Dylan did as he was told.

“What happened?” Jock asked. “I thought you were immune to hangovers.”

Dylan laid a hand on his shoulder. “None of us are immune, my friend. We are all but soldiers in the fight against sobriety.”

“You go home to bed now,” Angie said when he had drunk the last of the vile concoction. “Go on with you and don’t come back till there’s a splash of colour in those cheeks.”

“You’re a hard woman!” Dylan muttered.

“Well, you’ve no one but yourself to blame.”

Jock watched as he stomped out the door. Whatever was going on with Dylan, it would have to wait.

“Where’s Simon today?” he asked.

“He’s off visiting the Museum of Agriculture with Anthony.”

Poor Anthony.

“He’s still off work, then?”

“It’s half term this week, so he’s hoping things will have died down by the time he goes back.”

“It’s not fair.”

“Too right it isn’t! The things they’ve written about him in the papers. They’ve just decided he’s guilty, even though they don’t know the first thing about him.”

“Maybe he should sue.”

“That’s what I keep telling him, but he’s not interested. He just wants it all to go away.”

It would probably never go away, Jock thought. If the police didn’t know that Sapphire might be Gertrude, they might not be looking in the right places. He thought again about how Dylan had reacted when he suggested telling Stavely. What if he was wrong? Or worse still, what if there was a reason he didn’t want the police involved?

Simon came in a bit later. Anthony trotted at his side, firing questions at him.

“What were the police cells like? Were they all dark and dingy?”

“I think you’re getting confused with dungeons,” came Simon’s reply.

“Did you have to sleep on the floor?”

“Yes, but only because they couldn’t find a mattress big enough for me.”

“Did you have to share the cell with criminals?”

“No.

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