Free The Birdwatcher by William Shaw Page B

heavy. Gusts blew at the puddles. It would rain again soon. Ducks from the Baltic would be taking advantage of the easterly.
    He thought about Bob Rayner: he would be lying in a cold storage unit somewhere. They should have been watching the birds arrive together. Instead, they would be cutting him open soon to examine his organs and measure his wounds and contusions. A little way off, the motorway roared; its lights shone on the low cloud above him. He considered just calling Cupidi’s mobile and saying he would prefer to be alone this evening.
    The restaurant was almost empty. Cupidi and her daughter sat at a table at the back with a bowl of nuts in front of them. Cupidi had a lager and the girl had a Coke.
    ‘Sorry I’m late. I had to clean up the house.’
    Zoë, Cupidi’s daughter, leaned her head on one side slightly and said, ‘I don’t know. He’s not that good-looking.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Oh God. Shut up,’ said Cupidi. She hadn’t changed out of the linen suit, or put on fresh make-up, but she looked more relaxed here, at least.
    The fifteen-year-old leaned forward, across the table. ‘She was saying, before you came, she thought you were really fit.’
    ‘Zoë!’ hissed Cupidi. ‘Behave. William’s had an awful day.’
    ‘Single mother. Divorced. I suppose she’s had to lower her standards a bit,’ said South.
    Zoë clapped her hand over her mouth and laughed: a surprisingly low, loud laugh, given her slight frame.
    ‘It’s a complete lie,’ said Cupidi. ‘She’s just making it all up to embarrass me. I didn’t say anything about you. Stop it, now, Zoë.’
    ‘She’s the liar. Not me,’ said the teenager.
    ‘See why she’s always getting into trouble? She’s such a shit-stirrer.’
    ‘I’m not the only one who gets into trouble. Tell me, William, which one of us do you believe?’ said the teenager.
    ‘I know you think it’s funny. But it’s rude. Would you like a beer, William?’ said Cupidi, waving at the waitress. ‘She’s just in a sarky mood because I was telling her off.’
    ‘Who’s her?’ said the girl.
    ‘Because I was telling you off.’
    A waitress appeared. ‘I’ll have a Coke,’ said South, and ordered chicken wings.
    ‘Don’t you think this is the weirdest place on the planet?’ asked the teenager.
    South looked around at the restaurant.
    ‘No,’ she said. ‘This whole place. All of it.’
    ‘William grew up here,’ said Cupidi.
    ‘You’ll get used to it,’ said South.
    ‘Hope not,’ she said.
    ‘You’re being rude,’ said Cupidi.
    ‘She’s fine, honestly,’ said South. ‘It must be strange, after London.’
    ‘Thank you,’ the girl said, dipping her hand into the bowl of nuts.
    ‘Zoë is in a bad mood because I have been asking her about a fight at school and what caused it and she won’t tell me.’
    ‘Zoë is right here,’ said the teenager. ‘It was just a stupid fight. Don’t want to talk about it.’
    Cupidi put down her knife and fork. ‘Tell me about the inspector,’ she said.
    ‘McAdam? He’s a career boy,’ said South. ‘Oxbridge. Loves targets. But he’s OK.’
    ‘Key performance indicators. Equality impact assessments. Development reviews.’
    ‘Mum doesn’t always hate inspectors,’ said Zoë. ‘Sometimes she thinks they’re lovely.’
    ‘What’s wrong with you, Zoë?’
    ‘Can I have some wine?’
    ‘No you can’t,’ said her mother.
    ‘Why did you move here?’ Zoë asked South.
    William paused. He looked at his Coke. ‘My dad died. My mother wanted a change.’
    ‘Yeah, but why here?’ said Zoë.
    ‘She wanted to go to France, I think, but we never made it across the Channel. This is as far as we managed. It was a long way away from where I grew up, I suppose,’ he said.
    ‘Where was that?’
    South pretended he hadn’t heard, and said, ‘Are you annoyed at the inspector for getting stuck in this afternoon?’
    Cupidi smiled. ‘It’s his prerogative. I’m just a lowly sergeant. It’s