After Hours Read Online Free

through the empty streets, long since rid of their tram and bus traffic. In the fog, the old acetylene lamps on his car scarcely penetrated the gloom. ‘Electric headlamps,’ he muttered, changing the subject. ‘That’s the up-and-coming thing, Ett. Electric. Powered by a battery that starts up the engine and works a windscreen-wiper too.’ He turned at long last into the home stretch of Duke Street.
    â€˜Never! Did you go over Ealing way tonight?’ Hettie enquired. She knew that her brother often picked up their brother-in-law and took him home to his posh new neighbourhood after work. She pulled herself out of her own exhaustion and tried to make pleasant conversation.
    â€˜I picked Maurice up from the Picturedrome and drove him over.’
    â€˜And did you see Jess?’
    He shook his head. ‘I never stopped off. There was another job waiting.’
    â€˜You’ve been busy, then?’
    â€˜Pretty much. Could be better.’ They drew up outside the Duke. Hettie prepared to get out.
    But she turned back and touched his elbow. ‘Rob,’ she began.
    â€˜What? Get a move on, Ett. Let me drive this old girl down the depot. I need some kip.’
    â€˜I know. But Rob, something happened tonight. I can’t get it off my mind.’ She looked out of the cab window at the lights dimming inside the pub.
    â€˜Down the Mission?’ Rob knew she never made a fuss unless it was something serious. He studied her for a moment, finding himself wishing that she would ease up, get out of that drab Salvation Army uniform that looked like it came out of the Ark, and bemore like the old, carefree Hettie, pre-Daisy O’Hagan, pre-Ernie’s trial. She used to dance and sing her way through life then.
    â€˜Yes.’ She shook her head. ‘Don’t mind me, it’s probably nothing.’ She pushed down on the door-handle. ‘It’s just we gave a bed to a newcomer tonight. In pretty bad shape. I ain’t never set eyes on him before.’
    â€˜And?’ Robert prompted.
    â€˜He was rambling on a bit, drunk, of course. It felt like trouble, that’s all.’ She began to regret giving voice to her worry.
    â€˜Trouble? Who for?’
    â€˜For Annie and Duke.’ But she opened the door and scrambled out. ‘Look, forget it, Rob. Pretend I ain’t never mentioned it, OK?’
    He blew out his cheeks and shrugged. He guessed it was something about the old man’s habit of serving after hours. Rob sometimes got a bit hot under the collar about that himself, thinking that one of these days it could get them into trouble. They were tightening up the licensing laws again. He’d even heard they planned to put a full stop to alcohol altogether in America. But he nodded at Hettie. ‘As you were, Ett. My lips are sealed.’
    She leaned in and nodded. ‘Thanks, Rob. I expect it’ll all blow over. The poor old geezer’ll have sobered up by morning. He’ll be on the move again. Sorry I brought it up.’
    Rob watched her slip quietly down the court, by the side of the pub to the back entrance. She’d brushed it off, whatever it was, but he made a mental note to warn Duke to be careful about who he served after hours.
    Now he had his own bone to pick with Sadie; something he hadn’t wanted to mention to Hettie until he’d had it out with their wayward kid sister. He turned the car back on to Duke Street, recalling his little chat with Maurice earlier that night. The railway arches at the top of the street loomed into view. He’d park the Bullnose and lock her up for the night. Then he’d hurry back on foot.
    Maybe Sadie would still be up, having a cup of cocoa with Hettie before they both went off to bed. He pocketed a list of scribbled messages left on the table by Walter, then went out and bolted andpadlocked the big wooden doors. ‘Davidson and Parsons’, it said on a newly painted sign,