“Hey, Tom, I hate to tell you this, but Suzy’s in the dining room,” said Terry. “She’s getting mighty cosy with some bloke, mate.”
Tom paid for his beer at the bar and turned to his friend. “Really? Is he tall and gangly? Does he look like a spindly spider guy with long arms and legs?”
“That about sums him up, yeah,” confirmed Terry.
“That’s Nigel Jones,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Her boss.”
It was busy in the Bath Arms, even for a Thursday. Fortunately, his band had managed to find tables to the side of the bar. He walked around and found a seat between the drummer and the sax player. Terry found a seat opposite him.
“Where’s Evey, anyway?” asked Terry. “I thought she was joining us tonight?”
Tom almost winced at the question. He’d messed up, big time, on that one. He only hoped
