‘Then find her. Do what you do. What do you need me for?’

‘I have found her. And now we intend to give you the same opportunity as we did last night.’

Danny actually laughed, but it came out as a snort forced through his nose. ‘You want me to … again? I appreciate the thought but I think I will pass. I’m done. I got what I needed. Marcus Olsen was it.’ Danny turned to move away.

‘This was part of the deal, Mr Evans.’

Danny spun on his heels, his voice back to a hiss. ‘I never made no deal. I don’t even know who you are.’

‘You entered into a deal the moment you pulled that trigger.’ The seated man no longer seemed so concerned about keeping his voice low. Danny looked to the old man who had finished prepping his cigarette and now stumbled off his stool with it hanging between his lips. Lank-hair was back in sight too, placing towels over the top of the beer pumps, the final part of his routine. He saw Danny looking over and smiled.

‘For the road?’ the barman called out.

‘No. Thanks. I’m just leaving.’ Danny replied.

‘I’ll be in touch, Danny. We need to finish this. You need to finish this.’ The seated man hadn’t moved his gaze from Danny, whose only response was to continue for the door. He had no intention of looking back. Any response he gave now would only show up the anxiety that had returned to fog his mind and twist into a tight ball in his stomach. He didn’t want to show any weakness, he wanted to be resolute. He had given his answer.

This was finished.

Chapter 11

Friday

The next morning Danny stumbled away from his meeting with the Dover Athletic hierarchy feeling nothing but relieved to be away. This should have been a big moment, a time for celebration even. Danny had just signed a new contract as a coach at Dover Athletic and received a commitment from the club that they would support him with all the qualifications he needed to move into football management. Football was all he knew. This meant an extension to his career indefinitely. It should mean everything to him but he just felt empty. He had taken the long way back from the office to walk part of the stands at Crabble, to take in the lush green of the football pitch. This was a sight that always stoked something deep inside him. But not today; today there was nothing.