Free Deadly Business by Quintin Jardine Page A

ourselves. You must remember that, from when Tom was three.’
    I smiled and nodded. I couldn’t tell her that I didn’t, because I had no such memory. When Tom was three, I was raising him unhappily on my own and plotting my irrational revenge on his father, having cut myself off from all my friends and family, even from my beloved old dad and mum, missing the last years of her life in the selfish process.
    Nine years on, I’m a different woman, and I roundly dislike the other one. Most of the time she was an absolute bitch.
    As always, I had my phone in my bag, but the last thing I expected was that it should ring at that time of night. I took it out and looked at the display, which shone brightly and told me that the caller was ‘Susie mobile’. I almost sent it to Voicemail, but relented and accepted it, slowing my pace a little as the kids walked on with Ben and Tunè. A few seconds later I wished I’d just rejected it.
    ‘Can’t come between me and my man, girlfriend,’ she growled. ‘You tried it once before and it didn’t work.’
    ‘Excuse me,’ I hissed, ‘I’m not having that from the woman who came to visit and fucked my husband, in my bed, the minute my back was turned.’
    ‘I took him from you, though,’ she chuckled, slurring her words, ‘and don’ tell me you didn’t try for a comeback.’
    She sounded drunk and venomous and I reacted badly. ‘If I had done,’ I’m afraid I sneered … an ugly word for an ugly sound, ‘I’d have had him, honey. He only ever saw one thing in you and you’re sitting on it right now.’ She’d flipped my switch. But for the music from the beach, I’m sure the kids would have heard me. ‘You waved your child in his face. That’s why he married you; it wasn’t you he was in love with, it was her that he’d put inside you. Like an idiot, I hid mine. If I hadn’t …’ I stopped myself from yelling at her.
    ‘Sour fucking grapes, Primavera,’ she mumbled. ‘You just can’t stand to see me happy, can you?’
    ‘Listen,’ I retorted, ‘you’re pissed as a rat, and you’ll probably have forgotten all about this in the morning, but what I actually cannot stand is to see you unhappy, and that’s what you’re going to be if you don’t get rid of that arsehole right now. Even worse, your children will be miserable, because they can’t stand him either.’
    ‘Another black lie, you fucking tart.’
    ‘Yeah, well, you phone wee Jonathan tomorrow and tell him who his new daddy is and see what sort of a reaction you get. He was in tears tonight when he told me he thought Duncan was back, and they weren’t tears of joy.’
    ‘’Cos you’ve poisoned him against him.’
    ‘Bollocks!’ I wasn’t at my most articulate. ‘Speaking of poison, who poured you the drink you’ve just had too much of? No,’ I said before she could reply, ‘that was a rhetorical question. I know bloody hell who did. In case you’ve forgotten in your euphoric state, you are recovering from chemotherapy for a form of cancer that is quite likely to damage your liver. The last thing that clown should be doing is giving you any alcohol, and as for getting you bloody trousered … Jesus Christ, Susie, you’d better employ a food-taster from now on.’
    ‘God,’ she said, contemptuously. ‘You really hate him, don’t you?’
    ‘I won’t deny that. I detest the man, I loathe him, and okay, hate will cover it as well. I know he’s spun you a story, Suse, because he phoned me a few hours ago, to tell me what it was, and to rub my nose in it … or so he thought. Everything I told you about his attempt to blackmail me is true, and I can even prove it.’
    ‘You might have to, girl, for Duncan says that if you repeat it,’ she hiccupped, ‘Duncan says we’re going to sue you for slander, or libel or whatever. He says we’ll put you in the fucking poorhouse, girl.’
    ‘Is that so?’ I laughed. ‘He thinks he can use your money to intimidate me? In that case,