But his phone was lying on the bar and when he unlocked it the mapping application was still open with the postcode showing. The phone stated he was twelve minutes away. He thought again about Sharon, about how she was always right, how she had dismissed him instantly when he had talked about this guy. But what if he did have some answers? Maybe he had found something as part of another investigation and he was just a decent bloke who needed to share what he knew. It was no skin off his nose, after all. If he was hired by someone else as he said he had been, then he would already have been paid. The man had said that he wasn’t in the area much so if he did have answers they would soon be leaving with him, maybe for good. How Danny would love to report back to Sharon and tell her that he had ignored her advice, made his own decision, met up with this man again and actually been given something. How she was wrong this time.

Danny sat up from his slouch. It was just twelve minutes away. If he got there and was asked for money he could just tell the guy to piss off. His wife need never know. He wasn’t as stupid as she thought he was.

He stood up. His stool caught on the carpet, toppling over. No one so much as looked. He scooped it back up, his vision blurring a little when he leaned forward. He stumbled a little too. There was no way he should be driving. He reached back to the bar for the shot of rum.

‘One for the road,’ he muttered and made for the door. The fresh, chilly air rushed him, taking over his lungs to force a gasp. He made it to his car and sat in the darkness for a couple of minutes to assess if anyone had seen him. The last thing he needed was another drink-driving charge for Sharon to add to her arsenal. His previous conviction was only just spent and was consistently something she would bring up to throw at him. It was just a twelve-minute journey. He would take it easy – blend in.