CHAPTER 6
The Edinburgh Arms Hotel was a misnomer – there was nothing the least bit Scottish about its red brick, mould-stained edifice. A faded coat of arms on the sign paid token homage to its name.
Inside it was much the same as any other suburban pub on a Saturday afternoon. Cool and dim, infused with the odour of beer and stale carpet, evoking a sense of refuge, that in here you could forget your problems and temporarily suspend your other life.
Reuben ordered a beer and perched on a stool in the Sportsman’s Lounge. After Carlene had left for her refugee support group meeting, he went for a walk and found his footsteps leading him to the Edinburgh Arms. He only intended to have a lemon squash to quench his thirst, but once inside he succumbed to its lure.
He looked around at the t
