”Were ye talkin’ aboot me, Alec?!” The big man at the bar put his drink down noisily and walked over. He was about 5’10’’, scrawny and muscular with the tanned skin of someone who worked outdoors for a living. He’d clearly come straight from the fields and smelled of beer and hard work, but no soap.
”I was just saying how ye’d lost yer pal,” said Graham in the slightly loud tone that someone used when they’d been caught out but wanted to change the narrative. ”Oh, aye?!” came the reply ”An’ what business is it of yours?! Or yours, for that matter?!” And he turned and stared aggressively at the investigators.
