The Poisoning in the Pub Read Free

very idea of vomiting. She hated losing control in any area of her life, and throwing up seemed to her
the ultimate loss of control. She would do anything to avoid it happening, tensing her body with iron – and painful – willpower.
    ‘Have you slept?’
    ‘No. It’s daytime. I’m not in the habit of going to sleep in the daytime.’
    ‘It’s different when you’re ill.’
    ‘I’m not ill. Just a touch of food poisoning.’
    ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ Jude knew the answer to the question before she posed it. There were times when she got frustrated by her neighbour’s unwillingness ever
to be beholden to anyone else, but she rarely voiced her reaction. Like most people, Jude reasoned, Carole Seddon was a complex bundle of illogicalities, which anyone who wanted to be her friend
must just take on board.
    ‘Well, ring me if you do need anything.’
    ‘I can’t imagine there will be anything I need, thank you.’
    ‘I’ll call in the morning to see how you are.’
    ‘I will be fine in the morning,’ said Carole icily, daring her body to do anything other than mend itself overnight.
    To her surprise, when she had come off the phone Jude almost felt hungry. Her ready vomiting must have thoroughly cleared all the poison out of her system. Maybe she fancied a little soup? Or
even something more substantial? But just the mental image of food prompted another wave of queasiness.
    She decided she’d better check how things were with Ted Crisp and was surprised by how long it took for the Crown and Anchor phone to be answered. Perhaps just busy in the bar, she
thought, about to hang up.
    But then she heard Ted’s voice. And there was no background noise of a busy bar.
    ‘Sorry it took me so long. I was upstairs in the flat.’
    ‘I thought you were just busy.’
    He let out a hollow laugh. ‘Can’t be busy when the pub’s closed, can you?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Someone made a complaint . . . you know, after what happened at lunchtime. I’ve been closed down by Health and Safety until they do an inspection.’
    ‘And when are they going to do that?’
    ‘Hopefully tomorrow. They may not be able to do it for a few days though. God, and I’ve got this Dan Poke gig set up for Sunday. It’s the bloody limit! The longer a place like
the Crown and Anchor’s closed, the longer it’ll take to build up my trade again. And this is my busiest period. What I take this time of year offsets those endless winter nights when
I’ve just got three old farts nursing one half of bitter all evening.’
    Ted Crisp sounded so gloomy that Jude couldn’t resist inviting him round for a drink. An offer that he took up with considerable alacrity.
    He refused her offer of soup or anything else to eat. The fact that he asked for Scotch to drink and the despatch with which he downed it were measures of how upset he was. Ted
had never succumbed to the temptation that has ruined the health of so many publicans. He didn’t normally sample his wares during the day, contenting himself with a single pint at closing
time.
    Jude had never seen him quite so desolate. She tried desperately to think of anything that might cheer him up. She sipped her water – her stomach didn’t yet feel up to anything
stronger – and asked, ‘Are you worried what the Health and Safety inspectors will find?’
    ‘No, they were only there last week. And I’ve never had any trouble with them before. Place is as clean as a whistle. Standards are higher then ever since I’ve had Zosia
keeping an eye on things.’
    ‘She’s worked out well.’
    ‘Yeah.’ He was always slightly grudging in any praise he gave to his bar manager. ‘Even though she is Polish.’
    ‘Presumably the Health and Safety people will be checking your seafood supplier as well?’
    He nodded and scratched his scruffy beard. ‘Which isn’t exactly going to make me popular with them.’
    ‘Scallops are notorious . . . you know, if they’re slightly off . .