Page 12 of Pieces of Me

‘Would you like another drink?’ enquired Ian to Nicola.

  ‘Yes please, another glass of Orvieto thanks, just a small one though as the large ones look like gold fish bowls in here’

  Ian stood at the bar, elbows crossed, with a £10 note pointing skyward held between two fingers. The barmaid looked up and saw him standing there. She came wandering over, all gold chains, rings and cleavage, blotchy face and a tight blonde perm that wouldn’t look out of place in a 1970s German Porn film.

  ‘Ello luv, wot can I get yer’ she bellowed in her friendly cockney accent.

  ‘Another pint of 6X please petal and a small glass of white wine, the Orvieto please.’

  She efficiently pulled the pint three quarters full before letting it settle and pouring the white wine. Coming back over she topped the pint up until the beer poured over the side and there was a perfect head of froth. Ian delicately picked up the pint and gulped down a fifth of it so it was easier to carry over and wouldn’t spill all the way over to the corner table where he and Nicola Trenchyard were sitting.

  ‘Here you go petal, get your laughing gear round that then’ Ian said as he sat down. He moved his now empty plate to one side. The Steak & Kidney pie with chips, peas and gravy had been immense. He had wanted to order the jam roly poly and custard but there was simply no room so he had to give it a miss.

  ‘So how was your Caesar salad Nic?’ enquired Ian

  ‘Err it was kind of okay, not exactly sure it was a proper Caesar salad. I think the dressing was actually salad cream and the lettuce looked like it had seen better days.’ retorted Nicola.

  ‘Well that’s what happens when you order rabbit food. And anyway I don’t think the Emperor Caesar actually ate salad did he? I thought the Romans all ate ridiculous things like pigeons hearts stuffed with otter eggs and white truffles.’

  ‘I don’t actually think otters lay eggs Ian you idiot’ laughed Nicola as she picked up her wine and took a sip ’and anyway a Caesar salad has nothing to do with the Emperor Caesar. Caesar salad was invented in 1903 by Giacomo Junia, an Italian cook in Chicago, Illinois. He named it after Julius Caesar who he considered to be the greatest ever Italian.’

  ‘Ooh hark at the brainy one over there. I know Otters don’t lay eggs, I was being facetious. However I am not sure Julius Caesar was the greatest ever Italian, what about Roberto Baggio’

  ‘I think you probably mean sarcastic as opposed to facetious, but well done on using a good word for a change, and I am not sure you can compare a footballer to one of the greatest politicians and generals the world has ever seen’

  ‘I will take that as a complement I suppose. But hang on a minute, did Julius Caesar ever get to a World Cup final…No I didn’t think so. Anyway enough messing about, what’s this about getting me to check out the NHS Donor records tomorrow?’

  ‘Well as you have become the lead detective on the case I naturally assumed you would want to go. I heard about your little escapade at the Honey Club. Lisa told me all about it, she couldn’t stop laughing either.’

  ‘Lisa….oh you mean Mcgeorge. Yes very funny, I am sure you all had a great laugh at my expense. So come on then, we are getting off track again, who am I meeting tomorrow anyway?’

  ‘Oh right hang on let me check my notes’ Nicola grabbed her briefcase that was on the floor to her left, opened her briefcase and rifled through some papers before pulling out a sheet of A4 paper which had been printed off of her computer and was in the form of an email. ‘I was going to just tell you but you would never write it down and then end up forgetting it so here you are.’

  She handed the paper to Ian who scanned it quickly. ‘I am going to see a Mrs Sylvia Lawson…oh hang on they are based in bloody Bristol. That’s pissing miles away for God’s sake. Fox Den Road, Stoke Gifford, Bristol….do they have roads in Bristol? Running water? Electricity?’ asked Ian hopelessly. ‘Oh and Jesus H Christ, the appointments at 10am….I am going to have to get up at five to get there for ten, that’s horrendous, you know I don’t do mornings, you did this on purpose didn’t you, just to bloody annoy me’

  Ian looked up from the letter with an expression on his face like a lost puppy. Nicola was bent over laughing, her left hand over her mouth , tears running down her cheeks as she tried to hide the guffaws of laughter she just could not help from letting out. ‘Stop it….please…your killing me, my sides are aching and my mascara is running. Stop making me laugh’

  ‘Laugh…you’re not the one who’s going to have to get up when its still bloody dark are you. I bet you I get on the wrong train….I am useless in the mornings, I’ll end up in bloody Aberdeen or something!!’

  ‘No you won’t. Its okay, I’m coming with you. I have some other business over in Bristol as well so I will pick you up, you can sleep in the car and then get the train back in the evening.’

  ‘Oh, okay then, that’s a bit better….will you be making bacon sandwiches and a flask of tea for the journey?’

  ‘Piss off….who do you think I am, your flaming mother. Make your own sandwiches.’

  The two of them sat there for a couple of hours. It was three wines and five pints later before Ian looked at his watch. ‘Oh bloody hell its 7 o’clock, I’ve got to get home. I was meant to have dinner ready now. Looks like I will be in the spare room again, especially when I tell her who I have been with.’

  ‘Oi, don’t say that. I would never do anything behind your wife’s back, and besides I don’t fancy you.’

  ‘Of course you do…all women do. I have an immense physique; it’s just slipped a little that’s all.’

  ‘You need liposuction’ Nicola joked as she poked him in his beer belly.

  ‘No I do not, I need lipo-relocation…I need it taking off my belly and shoving onto my arms and legs. Anyway I have to go, see you in the morning hot stuff, bright and early.’ Ian bent down and kissed Nicola on the cheek.

  She responded and said ‘See you at 5 a.m. and don’t sleep in’

  As she said this Ian stood up and accidentally looked down her top at her lovely orbs. She caught him and looked at him accusingly. ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, it’s a male thing…and anyway don’t be embarrassed I’ve seen them, and had a good rummage’

  ‘That was fourteen years ago Mr Carragher, they have developed since then’

  ‘You’re not wrong there love’ replied Ian. And with that Ian was gone, past the pool table, the flashing fruit machine and through the double doors, only pausing to let two men in first, dressed in builders work wear in need of their first and most definitely not their last pint of the night.

  Unfortunately an hour later he fell through the front door. The five pints had well and truly kicked in and the evening air hadn’t helped either. All the lights were on and he knew he was in trouble. He had bought two portions of chips on the way home but knew his actions would prove irrelevant.

  ‘And where have you been…as if I can’t tell. I have been working a double shift and am absolutely knackered. I was hoping for some tea and thought we could watch TV together for a while but you have messed that up haven’t you. And what’s that smell, it’s that a woman’s perfume?’

  ‘Its okay, its only Nicola’s, she did a presentation today about the possible murderer on the loose and we went for something to eat, and before you know it I had accidentally drunk five pints.’

  ‘Nicola…oh that’s great, I’m working all day and you are out flirting with your ex. I’m having a bath then going to bed. You know the routine; you are in the spare room…and another thing…’

  ‘What’s that dear?’ asked Ian

  ‘You can shove those chips up your arse you bloody drunk’ shouted Louisa as she stomped up the stairs, with a glass of wine in one hand and some toast in the other.

  Ian drunkenly wandered into the kitchen. He sat down at the dinner table and shoved the chips into his mouth with his hands. He boiled the kettle during mouthfuls, careful to use his knuckle to turn the kettle on so he wouldn’t get grease on
the kettle. He made a pot of fresh coffee, drank two cups, wolfed down the chips then wandered upstairs to the bathroom. He knocked quietly before entering.

  ‘What?’ said his wife unhappily.

  ‘I’m sorry petal. I just didn’t realise how late it was. She finished her presentation at two thirty this afternoon so I asked her to come to the pub for some lunch. We got talking about the case and how each of us was doing and before you knew it, its 7 o’clock. Honestly, come on, you know I love you and me and her are history, we were just kids’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry, its just its been a busy day, the wards were crammed today, a patient died and another threw up everywhere, it was horrendous. I was looking forward to coming home and relaxing that’s all.’

  ‘I know I’m sorry. Look, finish your bath, I will open a bottle of wine, and we can try that red we got the other day, the Marrameiro Inferni Montepulciano. I bet it’s a cracker. We can get a film off Sky as well if you like, your choice’

  ‘Okay then, go on. You go and clean yourself up and I will meet you downstairs.’

  ‘Oh and one other thing, I have to go to Bristol tomorrow so will be up at 4:30, its okay I will sleep in the spare room so I don’t disturb you.’

  ‘Okay then, that’s fair enough. Will you be back in the evening?’

  ‘I certainly will…and I’ll be sober.’

  So that night they settled down for a film and finished the wine. Louisa fell asleep on him and he sat there lightly stroking her brow. She could be awkward at times but he did love her, and she knew she loved him…lets face it the amount of crap and idiocy she had to put with she had to. Ian woke her up at ten and carried her to bed, before going in to the spare room and collapsing on the bed, he was up in about six hours so needed the sleep.

  Chapter 11 – ‘Wake up lazy bones we’re here‘

 
Ian Williams's Novels