23. Prodigal Daughter?

Local credentials can be very important

In the Pipistrelle there is no time, only human interaction

Alden says to her, “Can I get you a drink? Obviously, not on duty, but we have some good soft drinks. This Apple and cranberry fizz thing is new.”

She stops him from going on.

“Hey, do you know what?...” she looks at her watch. “I’ll sneak a shandy. I used to drink here. I’m from here. MacKenzie was landlord then.”

Alden nods, a big grin emerging on his face. “Old school,” he says. “That old bastard is in London now.”

Waingard nods back at him. “Sunning it up,” she says.

“The Big Smoke,” Alden says. “Serving up cask ale to rockstars in Maida Vale.”

“He took great pride in his cellar.”

“As do I,” Alden says proudly, and Waingard nods back and they laugh.

“Well, I’d better not spoil the experience by putting lemonade in it,” Waingard says.

“Not tempting you into trouble, am I?” Alden says.

“No, I’m as good as finished for the day,” she says. Alden is already pouring.

She turns back to the boys on paying; they’ve been in conference, whispering into each other’s collars. Waingard sips the pint. “Damn fine,” she says to Alden.

“As good as you remember?” he says.

“Perhaps better,” she says, feigning consideration. Alden seems happy with that and turns back to the till grumbling the name MacKenzie under his breath. “Shall we get a seat up the back where we can talk?” she says to the boys.

“Lead the way,” says Moses.