Free Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2) by Ian Chapman

woman after you. I’m sure there’ve been a few.’
    I said nothing, let silence say whatever she wanted it to say.  
    ‘So, Trent, you know what I want. The question is, will you help me?’
    The music went off and there was the burble of conversation. The bar had filled up in the last few minutes, mostly couples, all dressed up, pretending this really was somewhere fancy.  
    ‘Depends on what you want,’ I said.
    ‘Not a lot. See how he is. Talk to him.’
    The music started up again, this time a pop song, a female artist from the twenties. Becky was being careful. Maybe she was wise not to trust me. Not to give away too much. Still, I needed to know she wasn’t playing games. That this wasn’t a test from Nico.  
    ‘How will I know it’s him?’ I said.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘We have a load of people in custody. How will I know it’s your brother?’
    She laughed. ‘You can ask him. That would do it.’
    I had a slug of whisky, swilled it around to let it burn a little. ‘Tell me about him.’
    She waved at the waiter, called him over, stretching up so her jacket was tight on her body. ‘Want another drink?’
    ‘Go on.’ Maybe her plan was to get me drunk. Or maybe she just liked to drink.
    She ordered the whisky and gin then stood up. ‘Let’s head outside.’ She walked off towards the door. I followed her.  
    Outside the air was cooler, fresh. Tables and chairs were set out on a flagged patio overlooking Faeston. The sun had set and lit the clouds a dull orange. The town was in shade, dotted by what few lights there were. Voices came from the harbour, distant shouts and whistles. Machinery droned at the docks, all backed by the constant growl of the wind turbines, their blades dark shadows. The spotlights on cargo ships and warehouses made them seem to float above the rest of the town. The sea stretched off into the black, featureless.
    She sat at a table. ‘There aren’t many towns where you can do this,’ she said. ‘I’d forgotten how amazing the sea could look.’
    ‘You can’t see the filth at night.’
    ‘All that water. Makes me want to strip off and go for a swim.’ She smiled at me. ‘You a swimmer?’
    ‘Not really.’ I didn’t let myself think about her in the water, naked.
    The waiter came over and gave us our drinks. Becky thanked him. After a sip she spoke again. ‘This is so good.’
    ‘You were going to tell me about your brother.’
    ‘Casper? What did you want to know?’
    She’d passed the first test, knowing his name. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
    ‘You mean the tank?’
    She took another drink, her eyes on the shadowed town. For a few seconds she stared and said nothing. Then she faced me. ‘Eblis. That’s what it’s called. The tank. Coming through town was a mistake. He hadn’t planned that.’
    ‘What had he planned?’
    She shrugged. ‘Casper will tell you more.’
    ‘And what was he doing in a tank?’
    ‘He’ll tell you.’
    ‘Is that all I get?’
    ‘For now.’
    ‘Come on.’
    ‘Our plan was, is, to go to Scotland. Somewhere better. Safe. He was in the tank I was on the bike.’
    A couple came out, both in their fifties, drunk. They staggered around laughing then went back in.
    ‘I’ve said too much already,’ said Becky.
    I took a drink and waited to see if she’d add anything.
    ‘Once you’ve spoken to him, seen he’s okay, we can talk some more?’
    ‘I guess so.’
    She gazed off at the sea. ‘It just goes on forever doesn’t it.’ She laughed. ‘Casper can’t —’ She stopped herself. ‘We’ll chat after you’ve seen him.’
    I finished my whisky and stood up. I had all I needed. ‘I think it’s time for me to go.’
    Becky took my sleeve, a strong grip. ‘Hey, it’s your round next. And the night’s only young. There’s lots to do.’ She smiled and leant forward. ‘I have a room here you know.’
    I slid out of her grip. ‘Thanks for the drinks.’
    She stood and joined me. ‘Listen, thanks for doing