Rita suddenly felt plain and dowdy and not in the least like Rita Hayworth.
‘I’m with him mate,’ said Lorraine, nodding over to her companion. ‘Trevor was his cousin; I never knew the bloke that croaked it. He was an okay bloke though, so I’ve ‘eard.’
‘Oh yes, a very okay bloke,’ said Rita, thinking how strange the wordblokesounded on her lips.
‘A very unassuming man,’ nodded Helen.
The door to the toilets opened and Rita sighed with relief. Imogen walked out with Henry behind her. He looked around the pub and Rita lifted her arm to wave to him, and then remembered that no one else could see him. Henry’s eyes alighted on Rita and he shrugged.
‘I need fresh air,’ he said.
Rita glanced around her nervously. Henry had obviously forgotten that she couldn’t just walk out of the pub like him, at least not without seeming extremely rude. Should she say goodbye to Imogen? Offer her condolences?
She feigned a yawn and said, ‘I think I’ll get going. It’s been a pretty hectic day for me.’
Ray was so taken with Lorraine that he barely acknowledged her. She glanced over at Imogen and waved.
‘Well, goodbye,’ she said and strolled to the doors. Cold air brushed her cheek, where Jack, after taking a quick cigarette break, hurried back into the warm. Rita tried not to grimace at the smell of stale cigarette smoke that emanated from him. The doors slammed shut and she looked about her for Henry. He was sitting on the wall.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘What do you make of all that?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Rita.
‘What to do?’ mumbled Henry.
Rita buttoned her raincoat and said, ‘I think it’s going to rain again soon.’
Henry looked up at the darkening clouds.
‘You could be right,’ he said.
Henry couldn’t care less if it rained or not. The weather made no difference whatsoever to his situation. If the sun burnt brightly in the sky it wouldn’t brighten Henry’s predicament in the least.
‘Do you want to come back to my bedsit? We could maybe get a takeaway a bit later?’ said Rita.
There, she’d asked. What’s the worst that could happen?
Henry looked bemused.
‘Unless you have somewhere else to go,’ she added shyly.
‘I ought to go home sometime,’ he said, while thinking how pointless that would be. Imogen wouldn’t know he was there and presumably she would go back to her parent’s home. ‘Oh, what to do?’ he added.
‘I have some nice wine,’ Rita said encouragingly. ‘I get discount at the store.’
‘I could drown my sorrows,’ agreed Henry.
‘Yes,’ said Rita, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.
Henry puffed out his cheeks and rubbed his eyes wearily.
‘Yes, a good bottle of wine will do wonders,’ he said, and Rita smiled.
Chapter Nineteen
Rita lived in a quiet street. The town house was rather a nondescript affair, Henry noted, and not in the best part of town. Still, he thought forgivingly, not everyone could afford a nice home. She opened the front door and crossed over the threshold, the rain-scented air giving way to the stronger smell of lemon-scented disinfectant. Imogen would never use lemon-scented anything. Rita, seeing him grimace said.
‘My landlord has been using a lot of disinfectant lately.’
