Chapter 8

Adam, heart thumping, arranging a smile on his face to cover his surprise and his nerves, walking briskly up to him before the other man could escape.

“What are you doing down here in the West Country?” he asked, his voice sounding overloud and falsely jovial.

“Business,” Alf said briefly in his flat Midlands accent, indicating the attaché case he was holding. He flushed slightly, as if aware that such brevity was bordering on rudeness.

He expanded a little. “The engineering works in Birmingham sent me down here to talk to a lawyer concerning our shipping business patents,” he nodded his head towards the office building he had just left.

“Do you have time for a drink?” Adam asked on impulse, his voice deceptively casual. “I was just heading to a good pub around the corner from here.”