He got every guess wrong.

Sheepishly, he put the cards into his jacket pocket and went back to playing with a yo-yo he had taken out of another pocket. Carrie looked at Jessica as if to ask, ‘Is he for real?’ but Jessica didn’t know any better than her friend did.

The next round of the quiz had started when one of the bar staff shouted out, ‘Hang on a minute, who’s playing silly beggars here?’

Everyone looked around to see what the noise was about except for Hugo. Jessica could see the cash register was open and the barman was standing next to it holding four playing cards in the air. ‘Who put these in the till?’ he asked loudly.

Hugo didn’t react but the other four people around the table stared at him. Jessica stood and walked over to the bar. ‘Can I see them, mate?’

‘It’s not you, is it?’

‘I’ve not even got up until now.’

The man handed over the cards and Jessica could see they were the exact four they had picked out from Adam’s deck moments earlier. ‘Can I have them?’ she asked.

‘Whatever, just stop pissing around.’

Jessica went back to the booth and put the cards down one by one on the table in front of them. Carrie gave a small squeal as the final one came down.

‘How did you do it?’ she asked.

Dave cut across her. ‘He can’t tell you that.’ He then looked at Hugo. ‘It was quality though, mate, completely effulgent. How did you do it?’

Hugo smiled, picking up the cards, pocketing them, and returning to his yo-yo. Jessica looked at her colleague. ‘Effulgent?’

‘What about it?’ Dave said.

‘You’ve been using the calendar I got you,’ Hugo said out of the blue.

‘Calendar?’ Jessica repeated.

Rowlands tried to shush his friend but Hugo explained. ‘I got him a word-a-day calendar as an early birthday present.’

Jessica looked at Dave with a big smile, glad she had figured out what had been going on. She had no idea why Hugo would have given him a calendar in September as a present when the constable’s birthday was actually in November but decided that was a question for another day.

After another round about ‘the British Isles’, their team had dropped back into second place. Carrie was trying not to be overtly angry and Dave wasn’t saying anything unless he was sure of the answer.

The next round was literature and Jessica exploded into laughter again when the first question was, ‘Who wrote The Jungle Book?’ She pointed at Dave and said far too loudly: ‘This one’s bloody Kipling.’

Carrie shushed her, looking around to see if anyone had overheard.

As the final drinks break arrived, Jones went to the toilets. When she returned, she was looking a little redder than before, carrying her mobile phone in her hand. ‘Are you okay?’ Jessica asked.

‘I’m going to get off. I don’t think we’re going to win anyway and I’m not feeling too great.’

‘Do you want me to come with you?’

‘God no, you stay here with Adam.’

Hugo must have heard because he stood up and gave Jones another huge hug. ‘’Bye, Carrie,’ he said. ‘It’s been really nice meeting you.’

‘Um, you too.’

She also made Adam stand up, so she could hug him and then cuddled Jessica. ‘Today was brilliant,’ she said. ‘I’m so pleased it was you who sorted things out.’

‘Thanks. It means a lot.’

Dave stood up and held his arms out but Jones blew a raspberry at him. ‘You can sod off, Mr Kipling.’

‘Look who’s talking, sheep-shagger.’

Jones wiggled her little finger at him and winked. ‘That’s what I’ve heard.’

Dave looked down at his crotch then back up to see Carrie walking away from him. ‘Who told you that?’ he shouted after her then, much more quietly as he sat down, ‘It’s not true, you know. Even if it was, it’s all about technique anyway.’

Before the final music round, the quizmaster gave out the scores that had them tied in second place but well behind the leaders. A group of four pot-bellied men who were sitting around a table loaded with empty pint glasses waved their arms about excitedly and Jessica guessed they were the team out in front.

Without Carrie to bully them into silence, some of the fun had definitely been lost. Hugo, who had been relatively quiet throughout the evening, seemed to know far more about recent music than any of them. Adam was good on the rock tracks and Jessica had the Eighties nailed. Her biggest problem, as before, was not shouting out the answers. Adam had taken over the pen duties and even he gave her a mildly annoyed look as she called out ‘Bros’ far too loudly as one of the answers. He quickly turned his look into a smile though.

With all the scores in, it turned out they had finished third. The team in first place got two free drinks each, while the ones in second got a single drink apiece.

Jessica’s team ended with nothing. ‘Good job Carrie’s gone,’ Dave said. ‘She wouldn’t have been happy with third. She’d have probably tried to break our legs like that kid.’

The quizmaster announced that they were going to do karaoke until closing time and Jessica pulled a face. ‘What’s up, moody bum?’ Dave asked.

‘Karaoke’s for idiots.’

‘You’re not getting up then?’

‘No chance. Why, you’re not having a go, are you?’

‘Hell yes, that’s why I come.’

‘What do you sing?’

‘Robbie Williams, “Angels”. Pitch perfect.’

‘Piss off, is it.’

The first person had started singing. Jessica recognised the opening bars of Elvis’s ‘Burning Love’. It was one of her dad’s favourite tunes and something she could remember dancing around to as a child without having a clue what the song was about.

‘Hang on a minute, where’s Hugo?’ Rowlands said. Just when she thought she couldn’t laugh any more for the evening, Jessica was off again. Hugo was stood on the bar, microphone in hand singing along with the karaoke. He was doing all the Elvis moves and getting every word right despite not being anywhere near the screen with the lyrics.

‘What’s he doing?’ Rowlands asked. The servers didn’t seem too pleased as Hugo danced in between people’s drinks, conducted the crowd for the chorus and then ended with a big jump off the bar.

Jessica didn’t think she’d ever stop laughing. Within moments of the song ending, Hugo was sitting back in their booth playing with his yo-yo as if nothing had happened.

‘What was that?’ Rowlands asked.

‘What?’

‘I didn’t even know you sang?’

‘Sometimes. I’m still working on the act.’

Jessica exchanged a look with Adam as if to say, ‘Don’t ask me’.

Rowlands got up to sing his song and, as Jessica had suspected, it was terrible. He closed his eyes for the chorus as if anguished and even sung the final part directly to a table of girls near the bar.

‘I think it’s time to head off,’ Jessica said to Adam. ‘You coming, Hugo?’

The magician looked back at them and shrugged. ‘I’ll wait.’ He stood and hugged them both, saying goodbye.

‘It’s been good meeting you again anyway,’ Jessica added.

She waved over to Rowlands, who was finishing the final note and was on his knees by the girls’ table. He gave her a small nod to show he had seen her but didn’t break from his performance. Jessica and Adam walked out of the pub hand in hand and crossed the road to the small taxi rank next to a row of shops opposite. There was only one vehicle waiting. ‘You take this one and I’ll get the one after,’ Adam said.

Jessica squeezed his hand and pulled him towards her. ‘Maybe . . . or you could just stay at mine tonight?’

23

Detective Constable Carrie Jones had quite enjoyed her evening until the flood of text messages towards the end of it. She just wished he would stop playing with her head. She didn’t know if she should call him her boyfriend or not. One minute they were on, the next off again. He didn’t seem to know what he wanted and the more he messed her around, the more she ran to back him. She hated herself for doing it but couldn’t stop.