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Authors: George McCartney

Bridge of Doom

BOOK: Bridge of Doom
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Jack and Annie head East to the

 

BRIDGE
OF
DOOM

George McCartney

 

Copyright © George McCartney 2016

 

This is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, living or dead, real events, businesses, organizations and localities are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

 

George McCartney asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved under International Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the author.

I’d like to thank my copy editor, proof reader, legal adviser, style consultant, hairdresser, navigator and top chef. She’s the ying to my yang, the ping to my pong, the sane and sensible to my crazy.

 

Big thanks to Moira.

Table of Contents

 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

About the Author

Chapter 1

 

Annie James, the younger, slimmer, better looking half of the JD Investigations partnership, squeezed her way through the busy lunchtime crowd surrounding the ornate horseshoe bar in the Royal Bar, nodding as she went to a few of the familiar faces. She got lucky and managed to grab a pleasantly warm, recently vacated, bar stool and waved in greeting to her aunt Peggie, the old-school landlady who ruled over the Glasgow pub with a rod of iron. As Peggie finished serving a customer on the other side of the bar, she wiped her hands on the front of her apron and came across to greet Annie.

'So how’s my favourite niece to-day?' she said, with a warm welcoming smile. Then, looking closer, she frowned and observed, ‘you’re looking a wee bit down girl. What’s the problem? Come on now, you know you can’t fool your old auntie Peg. It’s usually either work, men or money. So which is it this time?’

'Work’s fine, auntie. Things are a bit quiet at the moment as far as new business goes, but I’ve had enough bits and pieces over the past few weeks to just about keep things ticking over and cover our overheads, while Jack's still off sick. So, for the first time in my life, I’m actually okay for money. No, that’s all good.'

'Okay then, big surprise. It must be man trouble then. I swear to God, Annie, they’re the root of all evil. To be honest, if someone would just invent a decent vibrator, with an attachment to take the lid off my big catering jars of pickled eggs, then men would be completely obsolete as far as I’m concerned. So is it to do with that new guy you brought in here for a drink last week? You know, the wee skinny-looking geek, with the specs. The one who looks like a half-bag of shite tied in the middle?'

Annie couldn’t help giggling at the typically outrageous, non-PC outburst from her aunt and said, ‘please, auntie, that was
so
harsh. No, Jamie and I are just pals. I met him at my night school class and we buddy each other with some of our assignments. We've been to see one movie together, that's all. So there's no big romance and that reminds me, he's not replied to my last three texts, which isn't like him. He's probably just really busy with work, but I'll need to try and track him down and find out what's going on. You're right though, he is a bit shy and awkward around females, but once you get to know him he’s really sweet.’

‘Sweet
… what kind of man is that?’ snorted Peggie. ‘I like mine to have some hair on their balls.’

‘Well I don’t know how hairy he is, but he's a whizz at coding and I'm totally convinced he’ll invent a really cool smartphone app one of these days and retire filthy rich before he’s thirty.'

'Trust me, that’s the only way
he'll
get a real girlfriend. Seriously, Annie, I really don’t get this all of this 'we’re just friends, good pals, he’s really sweet' crap,' that you come out with all the time. Things were much simpler when I was your age.'

'What do you mean?'

‘Look Annie, I know that I maybe don't look it when I’m at work, with my hair done and all the makeup on, but I've actually got quite a few miles on the clock, right. And in my humble opinion, men and women just aren't genetically programmed to be close friends. I've known a lot of men in my life and, trust me, that proposition just doesn't work. Unless they're under ten years of age, or raging poofters, they're all just biding their time to try and catch you off guard and get into your knickers.'

'Honestly, things are different these days, auntie.'

'Okay then, if it's not poor wee Jamie that’s the problem, there must be some other man you've been keeping hidden from me?'

'It's not a boyfriend I'm worried about, aunty. It's Jack.'

Peggie snorted dismissively and said, 'well you don't need to waste any time worrying about
that
old fool, because he's tough as old boots. What's he complaining about now, anyway?'

'But that's the thing, he's not complaining about anything. Quite the opposite, in fact. Although physically he seems fine and his wounds have all healed up nicely, he seems quite happy just to sit at home watching television all day and he's shown absolutely no interest in coming back to work. I talk to him by phone or on
Facetime
every day, just to try and cheer him up and let him know what's happening back in the office. His doctor keeps saying that he shouldn't try to come back to work too early, until he's fully recovered from the head wound. But I seriously think he needs to get back out into the world. Ever since I gave him an iPad, he just sits around and plays with it all day. He says he mainly uses it to order repeat prescriptions for his medication and to buy groceries. But I suspect he's actually living on takeaway food that he orders online. And talking of online … apparently he's also downloaded the entire Hank Williams back catalogue from
iTunes
.'

'That
is
worrying. He's a sad bastard right enough.'

'Any other bits and pieces that he needs, he orders from Amazon, or eBay. Basically having the iPad and access to the internet has allowed him to become a complete hermit. What do you think? Does he need more counselling, maybe?'

'If you ask me, what he needs is a good hard boot up the arse,’ said Peggie, decisively. ‘If you like, I'll put on my hob-nailed sling backs and go round to see him to-morrow, for a quiet word.'

'No auntie, honestly, I don't think that would work. You know what he's like, he's so stubborn.'

'Okay then, let's work out a plan. Doesn't need to be complicated, Annie, remember that he's
just
a man. With a few notable exceptions, they're very simple predictable creatures, who basically only need three things to keep them happy. I've spent almost forty years standing behind this bar listening to drunken men telling me all of their little secrets. So, trust me, I know what I'm talking about.'

'Please share.'

'Firstly they need to be fed, which is kind of obvious, but often overlooked by young women these days. Doesn't need to be anything fancy mind. Just a big steaming pile of whatever favourite stodge their old mammy used to make for them, usually with a big dollop of tomato sauce on top and a side order of baked beans. Secondly, you have to give them a little bit of praise every now and then. It really doesn't matter what it's for, or if they even deserve it. Just make something up … anything to give their wee fragile egos a boost. Believe me, afterwards they'll go bouncing around for days, whistling away with a spring in their step. It's quite pathetic really.'

While her aunt was in the middle of delivering the lecture, Annie took out her iPhone to try and discretely check her messages. However, if she thought that anything other than her undivided attention would be acceptable, she was quickly proved wrong.

'Are you listening to me?' demanded Peggie. 'I really
hate
that, when people start playing around with their bloody phones, when I'm in the middle of trying to tell them something important. It's like they would rather be somewhere else, talking to somebody much more interesting. It's
very
rude, you know.'

'Sorry, auntie. You’re right, it's a bad habit. It's just that I'm starting to worry about Jamie. He must be really busy with work.'

'Or maybe he's lost his phone,’ said Peggie. ‘I collect at least three or four mobies in here every week, after closing time. They’re usually down the back of seat cushions, or left lying around in the toilets.'

'But I
was
still paying attention, honestly,’ said Annie. ‘Okay, I think I've got that so far. Men need food and praise. So what's the third thing they need?'

'Ah, well this is where things start to get a bit trickier, because they all need a regular outlet for their
nonsense
.'

'Nonsense? You've lost me there, auntie. What do you mean?'

Aunt Peggie snorted in disgust, 'no wonder you don't have a boyfriend. What I mean, Annie, is that they all get the horn and if
something
isn't done about it, they go as cranky as a tomcat with three balls.'

'Okay, I get the food and the praise bit. That does make sense. So I could take a fish supper round to Jack’s place and tell him that I've always secretly admired his living room curtains. But, trust me, I certainly won't be helping him with the
third
one. No
way
.'

'I didn't mean that you
personally
have to do the dirty deed. But you could maybe just give him a nudge in the right direction.'

'Which is?'

'To give online dating a try.'

'Oh my God, I don't believe it,' gasped Annie in astonishment.

'Don't look at me like that girl. It's not just for young people. Everybody's doing it these days. Loads of my friends have tried it. Some of them are even single. I've actually been trying it for myself for over a year.'

'But you never said anything.' 

'Look, it's not just men who get a touch of the horn, you know. Older women have needs too, Annie. Remember, you only live once, or so they tell me. So there's absolutely no point in me standing around here, waiting for Mr Right to come wafting in through the pub door and jump over the bar, to whisk me off in a swanky limo for a romantic weekend. That's not going to happen. So for the independent mature woman, like me, who knows what she wants, we simply have to be proactive and put ourselves in the online shop window. Otherwise nothing happens and your life just slowly disappears down the plug hole and before you know it you’re dead and gone.'

Annie shook her head and said, 'sorry, I'm not knocking it, honestly. I’m just amazed that you still have the energy.'

'Use it or lose it, Annie, that’s my motto. You should always bear that in mind, even at your age. But to go back to the problem of Mr Davidson, I think if you could convince him to try online dating, that would at least give him a reason to climb out of bed in the morning and re-join the world. If you can do that, then it should be fairly easy to nudge him back to work.'

'So instead of just nagging him to get up off his backside, I have to be a bit sneakier. I should plant this idea in his mind and then sit back and see what happens?'

'That's my girl,' said Auntie Peg, smiling broadly. '
Now
you're getting with the programme. So is there anything else I can help my favourite niece with to-day?'

BOOK: Bridge of Doom
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