Scorned

by Denver Murphy

  ‘Hold on a moment,’ Lexie said, looking around the pub’s large interior. Not only had she been impressed by the restraint the boys had shown since arriving there but seeing the place steadily fill up gave her an idea. ‘Why don’t we select a target from here? We could split up and scope them out by moving areas and pretending to play on the quiz machines and the fruities.’

  ‘And how will we know who’s heading back to St. Albans once they’re done?’ Taylor asked.

  A valid question it may have been, but Lexie couldn’t help but be irritated by it. ‘You might overhear them say something, and before you fucking ask, I don’t know like what but what have we got to lose? If it doesn’t work out, then we head to the platform and pick someone from there. Okay?’

  Lexie looked at them a few moments, receiving just shrugs back from Taylor and Cole. ‘And where are you going?’ she asked as Jordan suddenly stood up.

  ‘To play on the fruit machine,’ he replied evenly.

  ‘Good!’ she declared, regaining her composure. ‘Much as I would rather join you, I think we should split The Chuckle Brothers here up.’

  ‘Man, that’s cold,’ Taylor responded solemnly.

  ‘What?’ Lexie could barely believe her ears. Even before last night’s punch up, Cole and Taylor had shown little more than contempt for each other.

  ‘They’re dead; I mean one of them is,’ Taylor replied.

  ‘Which one?’ Cole asked, seemingly engrossed by this revelation.

  ‘I don’t fucking know their names, do I?’ Taylor fired back, but not unkindly.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Lexie exclaimed. ‘We’re about to do the job of our lives and you’re here discussing—’

  ‘Barry.’ Lexie wasn’t the only one who looked up in shock at the interruption. ‘Barry,’ repeated Jordan. ‘The Chuckle Brother who died was Barry. He was the older one, and the other one is Paul.’

  Fuck me, thought Lexie. The sooner I get away from these pricks the better.

  * * *

  ‘Got anything?’ Lexie asked before taking her shot, as Jordan and Taylor strolled up to the pool table.

  ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’ Taylor responded excitedly.

  ‘Just get on with it,’ she sighed.

  ‘Well, we were keeping an eye on these two guys sat near the jukebox and…’

  ‘I knew that was you!’ Cole declared triumphantly in reference to the Drake track they’d heard playing over the pub’s speaker system, and earning a look of retribution from Lexie for his trouble.

  ‘And…’ Taylor continued theatrically, clearly revelling in being the centre of attention. ‘As well as being blinged up with a nice watch and fancy threads, he and the other guy were talking mergers and shit.’

  ‘So, was that the good news or the bad news?’ Lexie asked impatiently.

  ‘Neither. His wife called whilst we were there and he said he’s going to catch the 6.32pm.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Jordan checked his phone and the only train leaving at 6.32pm is…’

  ‘The one for St. Albans,’ Lexie and Cole answered together. ‘So, what’s the bad news other than he might live by one of those pissy little stop-offs on the way?’

  ‘Well, he’s got a wife…’ Taylor replied, leaving the implication hanging.

  ‘I guess it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before,’ Lexie replied, choosing to ignore that the big difference might be this married couple having children.

  ‘And nothing I can’t handle,’ Jordan added ominously.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  It had taken all of half an hour for Kate to remove the majority of the make-up she’d been wearing once she finally arrived at the office. The initial comments she had received were complimentary but then her boss had proceeded to tell half the floor to leave her alone; that her mum was sick and she was merely trying to disguise the lack of sleep she must have had. Even though Kate could see that her boss had only said it out of concern for her, she did find an excuse to go to the toilet a matter of minutes later. Not that keeping her make-up applied at work would have made much difference now that everyone believed she was going through some sort of traumatic time in her personal life. Although she suspected some of her male colleagues would only be too happy to prey on a woman’s vulnerabilities, the notion of flirting now and having some people think she was having some sort of breakdown wasn’t something she was willing to entertain.

  Anyway, what she planned seemed complicated enough without all the baggage involved by not selecting a total stranger. Whilst she couldn’t deny the hope that she might end up finding someone for the long-term, all that mattered at this stage was getting enough evidence to turn the tables on Scott. If nothing else, last night had shown she could find some pleasure in the act of having sex with a man she didn’t like. Anything beyond that tonight would be a bonus.

  Having spent the afternoon feeling the nerves continue to build, Kate felt free of burden the instant she stepped out of the office block. She remembered back to when she was sixteen and had first travelled into London unaccompanied. Although she had dismissed her parents’ warnings to be careful, having grown up in a village Kate had been daunted by the sheer number of people moving from one part to another. Back then Kate had been worried about all manner of things but chief among them was being approached by strange men. Her mother had warned her to just ignore them but Kate didn’t like to be rude and besides, she reasoned, what if that failed to make them go away?

  But that was half her lifetime ago and walking the city’s streets felt comfortably familiar; except today she was recalling those predatory fears in the hope that just one of the multitude of lecherous men out there would make her task sufficiently easy.

  Arriving at the Tube station she battled claims from the irritating voice in her head, which had now seemed to take up permanent residency, that her decision to wait until she caught the Overground train back to St. Albans wasn’t a case of getting cold feet. Kate reasoned that not only were things more impersonal on the Tube but people were usually just travelling a couple of stops; hardly a captive audience for the sort of conversation she needed to strike up.

  Drawing what she assumed were admiring glances for the skirt she had hitched up in the toilets back at work before leaving, and the fresh coat of make-up she’d applied, she reasoned that it might just be as easy as talking to the first man who glanced in her direction.

  But things were different once she walked into the main concourse at King’s Cross. It was always a busy place, with trains travelling as far as mainland Europe, but tonight was exceptionally crowded. As she joined the throng in scanning the huge information boards for news of her next train, she read that signalling failure just outside Luton on the Thameslink, her line, had caused severe delays. As if to confirm she was likely to be in for a long wait none of the boards offered any suggestion as to when the next available train was likely to be.

  Presented with having to wait with the hordes of people by the barriers, in the vain hope she might be able to dash to the platform quicker than the majority of them, instead she made her way upstairs to the similarly packed pub. Kate had only been in there on a couple of occasions but it had never ceased to amaze her how successfully they had managed to recreate a typical English boozer within the confines of the station. In truth, as she gradually pushed her way to the bar itself, the general hubbub reminded her more of a Friday night out on the town, rather than people impatient to get home. Other than the fact that most of the customers were wearing suits.

  ‘Come on love, you can squeeze in here,’ a middle-aged man called across to her, gesturing to the small space in front of him he had created by squeezing up against the couple talking behind him. ‘The bar staff are much quicker serving on this side.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Kate replied uncertainly, wondering whether he was expecting any other form of gratitude; specific task in mind for this evening or not, she hoped that she could do far better than t
his old soak.

  ‘No problem, love, I could see you were looking a little lost there.’

  Kate couldn’t think of a suitable response so she just offered him what she hoped was a warm smile and turned in the direction of the bar; expecting that she would feel his hands groping her at any moment.

  Except that the only contact she received from another person in the time it took to get served was one of the members of staff pushing past her to return a massive stack of empty glasses.

  Almost disappointed, she looked around but could only see the couple the man had squeezed into. Taking a large swig of her hastily made gin and tonic, and with nowhere else to go unless she wished risking spilling her drink as she fought her way towards the back of the pub, she reasoned that following a similar tactic to the, now absent man, would provide the perfect cover for her attempts to strike up a conversation. And with more people trying to squeeze themselves into the establishment than were actually leaving, she would have her pick of the new arrivals

  Resolutely keeping in contact with the bar itself, despite countless attempts by impatient customers to nudge her out of the way, her eyes were drawn to a man glancing anxiously at his watch. ‘There’s a space over here,’ she called as soon as he looked up. That he didn’t respond immediately, instead checking to see whether anyone else had noticed the offer being made and was likely to object, she took as a sign that he was as decent a person as his rugged good looks suggested.

  ‘Ah, thanks,’ he replied, squeezing into the small space she had vacated by the bar. ‘I never thought I was going to get served at this rate. Can I offer you a drink by way of thanks?’

  Holy shit, thought Kate. If she had known it would be as simple as this to bag someone more appealing than Scott she might had done this long ago. She opened her mouth to respond.

  ‘Yep!’ The bartender didn’t so much as greet him, more point in his direction and demand what he was having.

  ‘A pint of Fosters, a large white wine and a…’ The man turned expectantly in Kate’s direction.

  ‘Oh no, I’m fine,’ she replied, trying to hide her bitter disappointment. If he had been asking for two beers, she might have still fancied her chances but she knew there was little point given his actual order.

  Perhaps it was because the man sensed that even the slightest delay further was liable to see the bartender move on to another customer, he only gave her the merest of nods in response before turning to complete his transaction.

  With the man and his drinks now enveloped by the crowd, Kate fought her way back to the bar to order another gin and to start the whole process again. Although the offer of a fast-track route to being served continued to prove a viable way of engaging with men, most were so harangued by their transport woes that they merely nodded appreciation or offered a grunt of thanks.

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ beamed a chap after Kate had been in there nearly an hour and had consumed three large gins.

  ‘S’alright,’ she mumbled dismissively, having grown increasingly impatient and was now considering taking her chances on the platform.

  ‘Pretty shitty, huh?’ he said, sliding into the space but not turning to face the barman. ‘You know, what with the trains and all.’

  Stating the obvious he may have been, but it was more than anyone else had offered her in the last half hour. ‘Yeah, I have no idea what time I’ll make it home tonight.’

  ‘Me neither,’ he replied. ‘Same again, is it?’

  Kate was unsure whether she liked the apparent confidence of the man. His token small talk seemingly over, he was straight in for the kill. He hadn’t even asked whether he could buy her a drink, just what she was having. However, despite his presumptuousness, Kate couldn’t help but smile. She’d bet a pound to a penny there’d be no white wine added to the order this time. ‘Sure, why not? I’m Kate by the way.’ If there had been a little more room, she might have held out her hand

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Kate, I’m Jake,’ he responded before finally turning his attention to the bar

  As well as being reasonably good looking, with his foppish hair seeming to match his outgoing personality, Jake possessed a certain charisma that not only saw one of the bartenders immediately drawn to him but elicited the warmest greeting she had witnessed for a customer that evening.

  ‘So, are you in the habit of accepting drinks from strange men?’ Jake enquired, clinking his glass against hers; his eyes filled with mirth.

  ‘Are you trying to insult me?’ Kate replied, but sufficiently demurely as to show that no offence had been taken.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he purred. ‘It’s just that I believe in Karma and was wondering whether meeting you might be the upside to a pretty shitty afternoon.’

  Kate opened her mouth to enquire what, other than the obvious transport disruption, he was referring to but reconsidered. With things having gone well so far, the last thing she wanted to do was come across as boring. ‘Surely having the pleasure of buying me a drink has provided the balance you’re looking for.’

  ‘Well, true enough,’ Jake laughed. ‘But the trouble with me is that I’m never quite satisfied. Offer me a sweet and I’ll want the whole packet.’

  Ordinarily Kate would wince at such corniness but she liked his arrogance; it made her wonder what he would be like in the bedroom. ‘So, if buying me a drink represents the sweet, then…’ She didn’t feel the need to finish the sentence for him, instead cocking an eyebrow.

  ‘If I’m right in thinking that you’re up here too because you arrived at the station to find that returning home wasn’t as simple as normal, then I was wondering whether you would like some company throughout this ordeal.’

  Perhaps not as forward as she was anticipating. ‘What, like commuter buddies?’

  ‘Er, something like that,’ he replied, winking.

  Kate took a hearty swig of her drink, satisfied that this would do for now. There appeared to be little to be gained from being too forward so early on, seeing as it would be some time yet before they should even think about heading down to the platform. ‘Where is it you come from?’

  ‘Leicester,’ Jake replied evenly.

  ‘Leicester?!’ Judging by the way he was dressed he was clearly in London for work and so she had assumed that, if not returning to St. Albans, it would be one of the nearby towns like Radlett or Harpenden. A short cab ride home afterwards.

  ‘I’ve only recently changed jobs and I…’

  Kate zoned out from the rest of the explanation. What had appeared so promising now seemed pointless. Much as she liked Jake, and determined as she remained to pay Scott back for all the hurt he’d caused, she drew the line at Leicester. For someone who had lived in the southeast of England her whole life, Leicester was positively Northern.

  ‘Sorry?’ she responded, realising that he had now stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly.

  ‘I asked if you were okay. It looked like I’d lost you for a moment.’

  ‘Oh, no I’m fine,’ Kate replied, sounding anything but. ‘Hey, listen, what do you do if you have to stay particularly late for something? I don’t just mean if the trains are bad but if you have a long meeting or something.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Jake confessed.

  Kate took a deep breath. ‘I mean do you find you have to stay over at all? You know get a hotel?’ She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of this earlier, and particularly when she had arrived at the station to find things in such a mess. It wasn’t even like money was an issue; she found a delicious irony in using her and Scott’s joint finances to fund her affair.

  ‘Oh no, you see, I have a dog and she…’

  Fuck that! Kate thought, downing the rest of her drink. ‘It was nice to meet you,’ she blurted out, pushing past him and into the crowd of people.

  ‘What about commuter buddies?’ she heard him call over her shoulder but choose to ignore it, other than allowing a grunt of bitter laughter to escape her.


  ‘This is so fucking stupid,’ she muttered to herself repeatedly, ignoring the mutters of protest as she forced her way out of the pub quicker than the density of people would naturally allow. Any normal person would have read the messages last night and chucked Scott immediately out. Let him go and live with his whore if that’s what he wanted. It wasn’t as though Kate loved him anymore anyway. There was nothing stopping her getting a new man as soon as she wanted and finding ways to flaunt him in front of Scott, and without the pressure of doing so in such a short timeframe. If and when she made it back home tonight, she would have it out with him.

  ‘That bad is it?’

  ‘What?’ It hadn’t been so much the question itself, more that the man was stood directly in front of her that caused Kate to be disturbed from her harsh thoughts. He must have been heading towards forty if not already there but with only a few streaks of grey in his hair and some laughter lines around his eyes betraying his age.

  ‘In there, I mean. I was contemplating heading in for a drink but, judging by your expression I don’t think I’ll bother,’ he clarified, offering a warm smile.

  ‘Waste of time,’ Kate responded more truthfully than the man would understand.

  ‘Thought as much,’ he stated. ‘I don’t blame everyone for having the same reaction as soon as they saw the information boards.’

  Kate smiled, and carried on in the direction of the escalator.

  ‘I wouldn’t go back down there,’ he shouted after her. ‘I don’t know what it was like when you first got here but I doubt it’s any better.’

  ‘So, what then?’ Kate responded, directing her increasing frustration back towards him.