‘Oh, don’t worry. I’ve known Tony Scott a long time. He’ll always go for a distressed damsel act,’ Bobby said as she fastened her coat. ‘Leave him to me.’
Chapter 21
Bobby found Tony in the George pub, just as Lilian had said. He was sitting glumly in the public bar, head resting on his palms. In front of him was an almost-finished pint, a newspaper and an overflowing ashtray that suggested he had been there some time.
Bobby approached and nodded to the paper. ‘Is that theTelegraph? You’ll never get back on theCourierif Clarky hears you’ve been seen around town with the competition.’
‘More jobs in here. Not that I can do any of the buggers.’ Tony finished his cigarette, added it to the pile of butts in the ashtray and glanced up at her listlessly. ‘What’re you doing here? Have you really come to thump me this time?’
‘I’m sorry I threatened to thump you,’ Bobby said. ‘Well, no I’m not, you deserved it. But right now, I’ve come to buy you a pint.’
Tony blinked. ‘Have you? What for?’
‘Call it a wedding present. Bitter?’
‘Mild. Ta.’
Bobby went to the bar. The pub was a disreputable-looking place in spite of its kingly name, and the landlord eyed her with silent suspicion as he poured the drinks. This evidently wasn’t the sort of place women frequented, and Bobby attracted further looks of disapproval from the old men standing around smoking as she took a seat opposite Tony. Probably they thought she was a lady of dubious morals looking for a pick-up.
But none of that mattered. She only needed half an hour.
‘Here you are.’ She slid Tony’s pint to him.
‘Why’re you being nice to me?’ he asked, taking a mouthful. ‘Did you see the missus?’
‘I did. She told me you’d be in here.’
‘She tell you to be nice to me?’
‘She asked me to check up on you.’ Bobby gestured to his paper. ‘No joy?’
‘No.’ He lit another cigarette. ‘It’s going to have to be Liverpool. Sorry, Bob, but it’s time I faced facts. Clarky won’t have me back, even with the reference I got off Don, and there’s nowt else for me round here.’
‘I was afraid you were going to say that,’ she said with a sigh.
‘The bombing’s eased up, at any rate. Maybe it won’t be so bad.’
‘It only takes one big shock for a woman to miscarry, Tony. You’d be putting Lil and the baby in danger. Is that what you want?’
‘Course it’s not. But I can’t feed the pair of them on air, can I?’ He tapped the ash from his cigarette rather violently.
Bobby watched him. He didn’t look like the Tony Scott she remembered: perpetually grinning, always ready with a quip or an off-colour joke. He looked tired, and angry, and frustrated.
‘Tony, can I ask you something?’ she asked quietly.
He shrugged, which she took to be a yes.
‘Why did you marry my sister?’
‘What do you mean, why? There’s a baby coming.’
‘So? Plenty of men walk away from that.’
‘Aye, I know what you’re thinking,’ he said, glaring at the newspaper. ‘Plenty of men like me. That’s what everyone thinks, isn’t it? Tony Scott, who never worked a day in his life, who can’t be trusted with other lads’ girls, who doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself.’
‘Are you saying that’s not fair?’
His hand shook as he took a sip of his pint. ‘Maybe it was, but not any more. Your sister was in a spot thanks to me and I wasn’t going to leave her high and dry. Hard as it is to believe, Bobby, I’m not a complete bastard.’
