Shaz

‘Mum, meet Shaz.’

Maggie’s eyes travelled from the dishevelled dark head to the eyebrow piercing and settled on the stud embedded beneath the lad’s lower lip.

‘Hello.’ She extended a hand.

Shaz appraised her coolly. ‘Hi.’ He didn’t reciprocate.

Maggie’s hand fell to her side. She looked to her daughter for guidance.

Kirsty shrugged. ‘Can we have a drink of something? Bus was sweltering.’

‘Of course. What can I get you?’ Maggie addressed her guest. ‘Tea? Coffee? Something cold?’

‘A beer would be good,’ Shaz grinned. ‘And the lav. I’m bursting for a pee.’

‘On the right down the hall,’ Maggie muttered through clenched teeth. This hadn’t got off to a good start.

Kirsty flopped down on the settee. ‘First impressions?’

‘He seems…’ guarded voice, ‘nice enough.’

‘That all?’

‘Well…’ Maggie played for time. ‘I’ve only just met your friend. I haven’t had time to form an opinion.’

‘You’re quick enough on the draw when it comes to other people.’

Maggie had a mental vision of Wilma in all her glory that first time she’d called round. Resolutely, she erased it. ‘I suppose.’

There was silence. Then: ‘He’s cute, though, don’t you think?’

Quizzically, Maggie eyed her daughter. ‘“Wee” is the word I’d have used.’

‘Mu-um!’

‘Okay. Let me re-phrase that. He’s a bit on the small side for my taste.’

Kirsty drew herself up. ‘There’s no accounting for…’

Maggie cut her off. ‘Where did you say he was from?’

‘I didn’t. But Liverpool, since you ask.’

‘Oh.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Nothing.’ Blank face. ‘Never been there.’

‘He’s going to take me when uni breaks up. Meet the family.’

‘Really?’ Maggie fought to quell the alarm rising in her stomach.

‘Yes. Big family. And, before you ask, they live in a Council house. Can you imagine? Eight of them in three bedrooms.’

Maggie could. ‘Are his parents both…’ she struggled for the right word, ‘…around?’ she ended lamely.

‘No. His mum’s on her own. But you’d better stop giving me the third degree before he gets out of the loo.’

‘How are you, pet?’ Hastily, Maggie changed the subject.

‘Oh, fine.’

‘Working hard?’

‘Give the girl a break,’ Shaz sauntered into the room. ‘All right?’ He stooped. Pinched Kirsty’s cheek so hard she flinched. ‘We’re here to chill. Ain’t that right, Lardy?’ He dropped onto the sofa beside her.

Lardy? Maggie’s hackles rose. Her beautiful daughter embroiled with this…lout. And the way he treated her. Maggie eyed the red marks on her daughter’s face.

In her role as a private investigator, she’d come across too many men who wielded control over women in myriad ways. Her thoughts jumped to Wilma. Hadn’t she spent the best years of her life with an abusive partner? Wilma hadn’t confided a great deal about her previous marriage, but from what Maggie had gleaned, Darren Fowlie was a bad lot.

Then, mindful of the hard lessons she’d learned, she quashed her snobbish instincts.

‘I’ll fetch you that drink.’ With a forced smile, she stood and hurried from the room.