Page 38 of The Other Side

That seemed to be the end of the discussion about the book. Some of those there had said nothing, though Drum could hardly claim he’d been an active participant. Bloody coconuts. The next book was chosen. Four Winds by Kristian Hannah and then everyone turned to Drum.

“Tell us about you,” Lily said.

Drum had undergone horrific and painful interrogation, but being under the gaze of these women and Arthur made his pulse spike.

“Not much to tell. I used to work in London. Now I work here.”

“Are you married?” Eleanor asked. “Any children?”

“Not married. No children. Did—”

“How do you like the Peak District?” Martha asked.

“It’s beautiful.”

They all beamed at him.

“It won’t stay beautiful if Stan Motson has his way,” Arthur said.

“It doesn’t seem right that he can put forward plans for a huge development and sit on the planning committee.” Lily huffed. “It’s a conflict of interest.”

“Which he’ll find a way around,” said Eleanor.

“What sort of huge development?” Drum asked.

He was shocked when he found out. A complex a little like Centre Parcs but bigger.

“Not on National Park land,” Martha said.

“But too close,” Lily added. “I think he’s overreached.”

“Pompous git,” Martha muttered.

Well, that was something Drum could agree with.

When he could get a word in edgeways, he said, “Can I ask about Sparlow?”

It was the first time the room had gone quiet.

“Anyone from here live there?”

“No,” Lily said.

“It’s a strange little place,” Arthur said. “Now what date shall we have our next meeting?”

Drum took the hint. In some ways, he knew he should have pushed but he’d wait.

When Drum finally escaped, he felt as if he’d emerged from a battle. The strange thing was, he’d actually enjoyed it. Yes, they were all at least forty years older than him. Yes, it seemed more of an excuse to drink wine and chat. But Stan Motson was disliked by all of them which made Drum feel better. He realised he’d made a mistake when he’d met him, in thinking he was a reasonable guy. Maybe he was, but his wife wasn’t. He wouldn’t make that mistake again, which was a pity because he wanted to believe the best of people, even if experience told him not to.

Drum thought he’d be driving through Sparlow to get to Osian’s house but somehow, he bypassed it. That was weird. The closer he drew to the dwelling, the more anxious he became. Should he leave a record of where he was, just in case his phone and his radio failed to locate him? But then, at this time of night, his shift was over and he should turn off both. Maybe he’d leave his phone on, just in case.

He parked in front of Osian’s cottage and Osian stepped out as he locked the car. Drum’s pulse sped up.

“Hi.” Osian smiled at him, then frowned. “I’ll get you a T-shirt. You don’t want to stand out just in case we’re seen.”

Drum could have told him he had one in the car, but when Osian went into the house, he quickly changed. He didn’t want his scars to be seen.

Osian laughed when he got back. “Like magic.” He tossed his T-shirt back inside the house.