He hastened out of the garage as he answered the call. ‘Hi,’ he said, trying to sound jovial for Gavin’s benefit.
‘Hello, Scott. How’s it going?’
‘All right.’
‘Well, that sounds positive. Where are you up to with the money?’
‘I’m sorting it.’
‘You are? How?’
‘Just . . . Does it matter? I’ve still got the rest of the day, haven’t I?’
A chuckle from Ronan. ‘You have. That’s why I’m calling. To set up the meet.’
‘All right. Where this time?’
‘I thought I’d make it easy for you and go with the same place as last night. Same time, too.’
‘You mean midnight?’
‘That’s exactly what I mean. Is there a problem?’
‘It’s late.’
‘What, is it past your bedtime? Sorry, pal. You’ll just have to drink lots of coffee or something.’
‘Can we make it earlier?’
‘Earlier? You want less time to find the money?’
‘Yes. Please.’
A pause. ‘What the fuck is this, Scott? Have you got something in mind for our meeting? Something I wouldn’t like, maybe?’
‘No, nothing like that. It’s just . . . look, I haven’t told my wife about this. She thinks it’s all sorted. If I’m out at midnight, she’ll know something’s wrong.’
‘You haven’t—’ Ronan let out a whoop of laughter. ‘Un believable. So you really want to meet earlier?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘All right. Let’s make it ten o’clock. That do you?’
‘Yes. That would be fine.’
‘Good. I’m glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want to come between a man and his wife. Not unless he was planning to cross me.’
‘I’m not. I swear.’
‘Then I’ll see you at ten. Have a nice day now.’
The call ended. Scott went back into the garage, his mind still buzzing.
‘That tea will be stewed, you know,’ Gavin called.
‘Oh yeah. Sorry. I’ll make a fresh one.’
He prepared tea again, then took the mugs and biscuits across to a worktable where he sat alongside Gavin.
Gavin slurped his tea and took a huge bite from a chocolate biscuit. ‘Oh, that’s good,’ he said, crumbs spilling from his mouth.
‘Gav,’ Scott began. ‘Can I ask you a favour?’
‘You’re not going to ask me to check out your prostate again, are you? Because, to be honest, it’s becoming too much of a regular thing.’
‘Very funny. No, it’s more serious than that.’
Gavin dropped his grin. ‘Why? What’s up?’
‘I’ve . . . I’ve got myself in a bit of trouble.’
‘What kind of trouble?’
‘Financial trouble.’
‘Financial. You mean you’ve run up some debts?’
‘Yes. And I was hoping . . . well, I was wondering if I could ask you for a loan.’
