‘What was he like?’

‘I never really knew him, to be honest. What’s this about?’

Dorothy suddenly felt the room was too bright, the lights overhead like interrogation lamps. She felt warm despite the cool temperature.

‘Do you remember why he left?’

Archie shook his head. ‘I think Jim said he got another job somewhere in an office. I’m not sure how much he liked this work. It’s not for everyone.’

Dorothy glanced at the pump, half full of embalming fluid, gently rippling like a slushie machine. She placed the tip of her finger on Gina’s hand, cold like rubber, not human at all.

‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s not for everyone.’

45

10

HANNAH

Southpour was a typical hipster bar, exposed brickwork, light fittings with designer rust, throbbing old filament bulbs that threw out no light. The menu was sourdough bread, craft beers and a long list of boutique gins with bespoke garnishes and twenty-first-century mixers, whatever they were.

In the five years since Hannah first tasted alcohol, most of the remaining old-man pubs had vanished from the Southside. Hannah was ambivalent about it. At least young women could now drink something that tasted nice without getting felt up, although of course the hassle never stopped. On the other hand, you paid a tenner for a drink and a bag of handcrafted artisan crisps.

Xander was behind the end of the bar, chin resting on the heel of his hand, as if the blonde he was staring at was saying the most interesting thing in the world.

He spotted Hannah and his eyes changed, followed by his body language. He edged away from the woman and turned to Hannah.

‘Have you seen her?’ he said.

‘I was about to ask you the same thing.’

‘She didn’t come home last night?’

Hannah shook her head. She looked at the gantry lined with spirit bottles, fairy lights draped along wooden beams. The bar was almost empty at lunchtime and she imagined grabbing Xander by his shirt and pulling him over the bar and onto the floor.

‘I need you to tell me everything you know,’ she said.

On hearing Hannah’s tone the blonde lifted a cherry-coloured drink full of mint and moved away from the bar. Xander watched her go.47

Hannah nodded at the girl’s bum. ‘Moving on quickly.’

‘She’s just a punter.’

‘OK.’

‘Have you spoken with Mel’s folks?’

Hannah examined him. He was over six feet and gangly, more like an arrangement of soft noodles than a human skeleton covered in flesh and skin. She’d always presumed he was harmless, but Mel’s disappearing act had hardened something in her, and now she looked at everything with suspicion.

Hannah nodded. ‘She didn’t meet them for lunch yesterday. They came down from Dundee.’

Xander looked worried. ‘That’s not like her.’

Hannah dug into her pocket and pulled out Mel’s phone. ‘And she doesn’t have this.’

‘Shit.’