Consequences by R. C. Bridgestock Read Free Book Online

his mouth full of beer.
    ‘A half of Coke it is for my colleague, please landlord,’ Larry said.
    As Gary walked back towards the bar he felt uncomfortable. This was supposed to be a quiet drink; the last thing he wanted was for attention to be drawn to them.
    ‘When’s Jack back? Is he off for a while?’ he asked, making a mental note to give Dylan a call on his return.
    ‘Next week …’till then I’m in charge of his patch.’ Larry shouted, proudly, for anyone to hear.
     
    Gary left shaking his head in dismay. What had happened to Larry since he’d last worked with him? He was no longer the great thief taker he had once been.
     
    Back at the station, Larry sat in the office with his feet up. It was Dick Foster’s retirement do that evening; the buffet would be his meal and after a few pints in the bar, that would be Larry sorted for the day. His life these days seemed to take him from one public house to another. He hardly knew Dick, a PC from the front office, but that didn’t deter him. After all, the poster did say ALL welcome, and anyone who’d done thirty years in the job definitely deserved a toast to them. Thirty years in the job, Larry dreaded the thought he was looking for a much easier option. A wealthy widow with her own pub, he contemplated. Not too much to ask for, was it? He smiled at the thought, and as he did so he pulled the drawstring of the blind and yanked hard, although he regretted it instantly as dust flew down on him. Waving his hand in front of his face and coughing fitfully he took the wedge from under the open door and employed it to keep it shut. Pulling up a visitors chair to rest his feet on, he made himself comfortable, in Dylan’s chair. A smile crossed his face as he remembered the conversation he’d once had at his local.
    ‘What happened to that lovely young barmaid you were knocking off?’ Larry had asked the barman, pulling a face at the woman now behind the bar, he could only describe as being as ugly as a bucket of frogs.
    ‘Ah, she went off with a punter.’ He said pulling Larry’s pint. ’So, I married the landlady,’ he nodded in the direction of the unfortunate looking lady.
    ‘Why?’ Larry had gasped, paying the barman.
    ‘Well, my favourite drink is on tap. I’ll never be frightened of her leaving me - I can have sex when I want it, and she’s ever so grateful...do you want me to go on?’ he’d said, chuckling.
    Larry remembered him saying, as he fell into a deep sleep.
     
    About an hour later he woke up. He needed a clean shirt for the evening. On the way he’d change out of his new suit at his flat, and have a couple of shots of Jack Daniels as an aperitif.
     
    Someone has put on a good spread he thought, as he headed straight for the buffet. It was early, so there was hardly anyone about as he overloaded his platter. Why the hell didn’t they give out bigger plates? He thought as he ambled to the bar.
    ‘The first drink’s on me,’ someone shouted. The day was getting even better. Larry stuffed his face with pies, sausage rolls, scotch eggs, what a rare treat. He looked around the room. No one else was eating. He chuckled; perhaps the food wasn’t supposed to be eaten yet, he thought as he discreetly slid his empty plate and dirty napkin along the shiny bar surface. Now, which ‘wooden top’ can I blag the next drink off, and where was Dick Foster he wondered, as he looked around the room? At the end of the bar people were handing presents and hugging a kind faced man with laughing eyes...Dick Foster. Larry grinned knowingly...he wasn’t a detective for nothing now, was he?
    He swayed as he sat on the bar stool, surveying the crowd as he overtly nodded to people as they passed, and in doing so toppled off his seat and into the chest of a large buxom woman.
    ‘What the fuck?’ came the shout. As he knocked her to the floor she screamed. A big strong arm yanked Larry to his feet by his collar in one fell swoop. Before he knew what was