Cooper would probably say she always saw the worst in people. And that might be true. But of course, she was usually right too.
Hurst was the first one to spot her across the bar. Not that Fry had been hiding or trying too hard to be inconspicuous. That would have been silly. She had just as much right to be here in the pub as anyone else. Let them react to her presence however they wanted. Let them all worry about her being there, and what she might have heard or suspected. It would make life interesting in the office tomorrow morning.
But Hurst was waving her over. Villiers was even calling her name. Fry shook her head, but automatically began to move towards the table. Some instinctive courtesy prevented her from just turning her back and walking away.
Irvine pulled over an extra chair for her, and the others shuffled aside to make room. But she remained standing, her shoulders stiff and awkward. She had never felt comfortable in unexpected social situations. She needed to be prepared for it. Well, if this was a social situation. Looking around the faces again, she realised they all seemed too solemn.
‘Sit down, Diane,’ said Villiers.
‘It’s okay. I’m just—’
But Murfin had been back to the bar, and now he thrust a glass into her hand. Fry looked at it and caught the aroma. Vodka. She didn’t drink it often, only when she thought she was going to need it to get through the next hour. How had Murfin known? She’d never drunk with him, that she could recall, except when she was on soft drinks, and had always avoided any suggestion of a boozing session. If he’d asked her at any other time she would have chosen a J2O apple and mango flavour. But he hadn’t asked.
With the glass in her hand, she couldn’t help but take the chair. Irvine had placed it at the head of the table, making her feel as if she was the lady of the manor surveying her dinner guests. For a few minutes they all sat quietly, watching her out of the corners of their eyes. Eventually, Fry realised it was being left up to her to break the silence.
‘So what were you all talking about when I came in?’ she said, with an effort at lightness. ‘It looked very serious.’
Glances were exchanged. Hurst fidgeted in her chair, Irvine began to tear a beer mat into pieces. Murfin developed a sudden interest in the barmaid.
‘We were talking about Ben,’ said Villiers.
‘Ben Cooper.’
‘Of course.’
‘I suppose it’s no surprise,’ said Fry.
She could no longer get the lightness into her voice. She had never courted popularity, but deep in her heart she wanted respect, hoped that her team would at least be willing to continue working under her without becoming quite so desperate to get their old DS back.
In that moment, the disappointment struck her harder than she would ever have imagined it could. It felt like a betrayal. They’d been sitting here discussing how they could get rid of her and replace her with Ben Cooper again. And yet they’d invited her to join them and had sat her down at the table with a drink. What a nerve. With an overriding sense of relief, she began to feel angry again instead of hurt.
‘So what have you decided?’ she said. ‘And is it a democratic decision, or have you elected a leader for the revolution?’
Fry glanced from one to the other. They looked puzzled, moody, uncomfortable. Gavin Murfin was calmly drinking a pint of Buxton Brewery’s Black Rocks IPA. She hoped someone else was driving him home tonight.
‘It’s not like that,’ said Hurst. ‘We’re really worried about Ben. He’s not answering his phone at home. He’s not picking up calls on his mobile either. Luke and I went and called at his flat the other day, but we couldn’t get any response. The curtains on the front window were closed, even during the day.’
‘If it was anyone else, his friends would be asking questions by now,’ said Irvine.
‘So, what? Do you want to file a missing persons report? He’s on extended leave, for heaven’s sake. He may have taken a holiday, gone away for a while. He might be doing all the things he’s never been able to do because of the job. In fact, he can do what the heck he likes. I should be so lucky.’
‘That’s just a load of old wazzer,’ said Murfin.
‘Gavin, you’ve known him longer than any of us,’ said Irvine.
Murfin put down his glass and bit into an enormous crisp, licking a salty crumb off his lips.
‘Actually no,’ he said.
‘But…?’
Murfin glanced across at Villiers. She nodded slowly, a little reluctantly.
‘Ben and I grew up in the same area. We were at school together. So I suppose you could say I’ve known him almost all his life. But that doesn’t mean I know him best. Gavin has worked with him longest. I was away from Derbyshire for years while I was in the forces. Just the occasional visit home on leave. You lose touch, miss out on things happening in your friends’ lives back home, no matter how close you once were.’