Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“Would you like another drink?” The waiter swung by my table after serving a couple nearby.
I shook my head, glancing round the restaurant. “Just the bill, thanks. The food’s been great.” It really had, just the company was non-existent.
My freshly washed and almost styled hair had been decent for me, or so I persuaded myself.
The playsuit I had on made me feel like I was something other than a cop, and I’d resolved to take a photo of myself in the next mirror I saw and send it to him, let him know what he’d missed out on given he hadn’t turned up.
My phone had pinged with a message when he was forty-five minutes late and not picking up his phone. There’d been a safeguarding emergency at school and he was staying back to wait for a social worker to pick up a pupil who wasn’t able to go home.
I understood, or at least I was trying to. There’d been a couple of times when I’d had to cancel last minute, but not three-quarters of an hour late.
I’d eaten, had a cocktail that was more fruit than alcohol, and considered the benefits of an early night.
Another text came in from Cavan.
I’m so sorry. I’ve just managed to leave now. Shall I meet you somewhere?
I wasn’t in the mood anymore. The day had been long already, and his had clearly been the same.
Let’s leave it tonight and rearrange. Maybe grab lunch tomorrow? I have a day off.
My phone vibrated again as soon as I put it down, but this time it wasn’t Cavan.
It’s Lachy. We’re in the bar across from you and Vinny’s threatening to come and get you, and by get you, I mean serenade you, so you might be better just coming over here.
I looked out of the window and saw thick blonde hair, Lachy standing next to the towering mass of annoyance that was Vinny Leigh.
Was it better than heading home now? It’d been a few weeks since I’d last gone out with anyone from the team.
“Can I pay the bill?”
The waiter gave me a cute nod. “Sure. By the way, whoever he is, he missed out.”
“Thanks. Good detective skills.” I flashed my phone at the machine, hearing the beep.
“I always wanted to join the police. Be a murder detective. Ended up here instead.”
I thought of my day, reviewing lives that were on pause or possibly over. “I think you made the right choice.”
There was an embarrassing round of applause when I walked into the bar, followed by a chat for shots, shots, shots. Vinny held a pint up to his face, not trying too hard to hide his grin. “Lover boy stand you up?”
“Got held up at work.”
Vinny frowned. “Thought he was a teacher. Don’t they only work part time?”
I wondered what Lucy’s reaction would be if Vinny said that to her face, but she’d have been too busy trying to charm him. He was just her type.
“Bit like us. Easy life, isn’t it?” I eyed the bar, which was at least three deep. “What’s everyone on?”
He put his pint glass down. “I’ll come with you. Half the blokes there look like complete tossers.”
“I can look after myself, you know.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
He followed me to the bar, paying no attention to where what looked like karaoke was being set up. “Is he a bit of a prick this bloke you’re seeing?”
“No. He’s an assistant head at Moorbridge High.”
“That doesn’t mean he's not a prick.”
“Leave it, Vin. I don’t need a row with you tonight. Save it for Monday.” We’d worked together for years now and knew what buttons to press to wind each other up.
He gave me a quick look up and down, nothing sexual in it. There never had been. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Takes more than that to bother me. What are you having?” I caught the bartender’s eye.
Vinny shook his head, watching me for longer than he needed. “I’ll get these. Help you get over the disappointment of being stood up.”
“He did let me know he wasn’t going to get there.” I wasn’t sure if I was defending Cavan to Vinny or me. I could suppress it all I liked, but I was pissed off that Cavan hadn’t let me know he couldn’t make it before we were supposed to meet.
“So why did you still turn up?”
“I was already there. Because I was hungry and wanted to try the restaurant. I don’t always need a man with me, Vinny.” The last part wasn’t a lie. I’d learned to be self-sufficient, reliant on only myself.
My foster parents had been idyllic. They’d considered me as their own, and they were my family. But that didn’t stop the nagging voice in my head that they could choose at any time to cut their ties me with, if I gave them reason to.
Then again, my own mother had chosen something else as more important than her daughter, so blood was arguably weaker than the ties that you chose to form.
“I’m well aware that you think you don’t need anybody else, Mia.
You prove it on a daily basis. What do you want to drink?
I’m still allowed to buy you a drink, aren’t it?
” Vinny didn’t look at me when he spoke, focusing on the bartender.
“Three pints of Dizzy Blonde, a double gin and tonic, four shots of whatever’s cheapest and whatever she’s having. ” He elbowed me in the side.
I elbowed him back, forgetting I was quite accurate until he winced.
“Jesus, Mac.” He rubbed where I’d knocked him.
“I’ll have the most expensive cocktail you’ve got.” I knew Vinny was smiling when he heard me, expecting nothing less, just like I knew he knew that I’d been properly stood up.
“The Honey Monster?” The bar tender peered at me. “It’s nineteen quid.”
“Sold.” I felt no guilt. Vinny owed me at least seven drinks, and yes, I did count.
“Coming up.” He disappeared, ignoring the calling from other people waiting to be served.
“He’s a wanker for not showing up, Mac. Ditch him.” Vinny leaned against the bar, looking round at the punters, eyeing up a couple of girls who weren’t dressed for the current Manchester Monsoon.
He probably had a point. “He’s good in bed.”
I enjoyed watching Vinny squirm.
“It shouldn’t be just about that, though, should it?”
“Listen to you, Vincent, all new man and everything. What happened with you and Dr Miz, then? Where was the wine and dine there?” Now we were on the topic I kind of wanted to be on.
Vinny and I both enjoyed oversharing with each other, doing our best to make the other say our safe word so the details stopped.
He looked decidedly uncomfortable, avoiding answering while he paid for the drinks and loaded them onto a tray, passing me my rather elaborate cocktail with a grimace.
“She’s scary, Mac, like terrified the life out of me.” He dodged eye contact while we walked back to the rest of the team. Someone else had bought a round of shots which I was staying well away from. I had plans for the morning that didn’t involve a hangover.
We hovered away from the rest once they’d had their drinks issued, some strange game in place that involved Lachy balancing things on his tongue.
I kept my head free of any images his words were conjuring up. “This sounds like an excuse.”
“No, no, it’s really not.” He sipped his pint, his eyes reflecting what did look a lot like terror.
But I knew Vinny, and I knew he had a top grade in drama from when he was sixteen, and at one point seriously thought about being an actor. This could all be a show.
“So what happened?”
He put down his drink on the table where we were stood. “We went out after work last week and ended up going for something to eat together, just as friends. I honestly wasn’t intending for anything to happen – you know I don’t generally shit where I eat.”
“By that you mean you don’t sleep with colleagues on the regular.” Which I knew.
“Exactly. Anyway, we ended up drinking wine and talking. I don’t think we drank that much but I felt really weird – relaxed.
We went back to hers for a coffee – you know she only lives in the Northern Quarter?
– and I said I’d get a taxi from there. She kissed me and it kind of happened from there, and the next thing I know she’s tying me to her bed and then using me as pretty much her sex doll.
” He shuddered, staring out of the window.
“She kept on texting me afterwards asking me to come back around and saying we could make a thing of it, but I’m really not into that stuff. ”
“I feel you’ve given me enough details.” I really did not need to know any more.
“I think I might need to see a therapist.” He messed his hair with his hand, ruffling it. “It’s completely knocked me.”
“Maybe you need to tell her how she made you feel. She must’ve thought you were into it.” I wasn’t letting him get away with this. I’d met many of Vinny’s girlfriends and fuck buddies over the years we’d worked together.
“Maybe. She’s like a witch, though. Had me doing whatever she wanted.” He really did look as if he was experiencing some kind of trauma.
“Did you, you know, finish?” I steeled myself. “I don’t need details, but did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yeah, Mia, yeah. I finished.” He hissed the words.
“So you enjoyed it then. Maybe you’re just worried because you weren’t in control.” Poking this particular bear was always fun.
Now he looked downright miserable, and I felt a little mean. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have some deep-rooted issue with needing to be in control, something to do with my childhood, but I’m glad I’ve given you a chance to put your psychology degree to good use.”
“You mean master’s degree in psychology.
” I loved reminding him of this. Vinny had gone to university to study sports science but dropped out in the second year.
He’d joined the police on his twenty-second birthday, so was now ten years in.
He was a good cop and I liked working with him, most of the time.
“Fuck off, Mia.” But I got a smile. “Will you have a word with her, Saira, I mean? Tell her I’m sorry but she scared me.”
“Why are you asking me to do your dirty work? You fucked this one up yourself; you sort it.” I sipped my cocktail, enjoying it more because Vinny had bought it.
“Please. I'll owe you one. I just need her to stop slagging me off.”
“Ah, you heard about your penis only needing the smallest sample jar?”
His lips curved up into a smile because he couldn’t help himself. “You know that’s not true.”
I did, in fact, know this, having once walked in on Vinny stripping off soaking wet clothes in the staff kitchen when he thought no one was left in the office.
“I can’t remember it. I needed to block it from my memory.
Can we leave this conversation here? I think I’ve done with talking about your sex life for the next decade or so.
” Two of our colleagues were attempting some weird dance and making a complete balls up of it.
Verity, the only other woman in my immediate team, was filming it, which meant this moment would unfortunately live forever.
Vinny gave a slow nod. “Yep. But please say something to her when you next see her. Hopefully that’ll be a while.”
“You think this murder’s a one off? The papers are already labelling it the Knife Pusher.”
“Which makes no sense. She wasn’t pushed in the canal. She was dumped there. Totally different from the conspiracy theory about the Manchester Pusher.” He eyed a darts board. “Fancy a game?”
It was one way to stop him from going on about conspiracy theories. “You know I’ll kick your arse.”
“Want to bet?”
“Absolutely.”
And that was how I ended up with a free night out.