Undercover Read Online Free

football tucked under one arm, looked a little lost among the remaining teachers and local politicians who competed for his attention. His face brightened when he caught sight of Lydia. He raised his eyebrows and she zeroed in for a subtle rescue.
    "I hate to drag you away, Rory," Lydia said. "Unfortunately, we've a timetable to stick to."
    Rory passed the ball to the local priest, shook hands with the men in suits, promised to stop in again and managed a sincere-ish look of regret as Lydia led him out of the school. The driver was parked across the school gates, all the better for a quick escape. They waded through the growing cluster of children and hopped into the back seat of the Merc.
    "Have fun?" Lydia asked.
    "What a load of shite."
    Lydia thumbed through the organiser on her phone. "We've an hour and a half before you visit the secondary school."
    Rory groaned. "Thank fuck I didn't go to university, eh?"
    "Hmmm. You have a little time to recharge your batteries. Do you want to grab a bite somewhere?"
    "If we can find a quiet place. I can't be arsed putting on the PR face."
    "Here," the driver said. "What about the Manchester United supporters' bar? It's not far from here."
    Rory sighed. "Ha-fucking-ha."
    He told the driver to take them to Andersonstown and find a quiet café. The driver nodded at him in the rear-view mirror then went back to cursing at black taxis and pink buses under his breath.
    "Is your son enjoying the wee trip?" Rory asked.
    Lydia fixed her eyes on the driver's headrest. The thought of Mattie's "enjoyment" drove a jagged icicle through her heart. "You know what kids are like. He's bored to tears without Sky TV and Xbox Live."
    "I kind of miss my Xbox too. Is thingy... um, John. Is John not dragging him to all the usual spots? The Causeway and all that."
    "We're trying to save that sort of stuff for when I can go. When your schedule clears... in a day or two." She checked her phone. "Are you doing anything tonight?"
    Rory didn't register the subject change. "Clubbing, probably, if I can find somewhere with a bit of life. I'd forgotten what a backward shithole Belfast was. It doesn't even have any strip clubs, like."
    Yeah, that's the worst thing about this country, you spoiled bastard.
    The car juddered to a halt on a bus lane. The driver shut off the engine and Lydia realised they were parked. She glanced out at what looked like a construction site. Beyond the mess of red and white plastic barriers and temporary steel fencing was a squat building that claimed to be a leisure centre. The driver pointed to a row of houses converted to shop units a few yard up the street.
    "Not the best place in Andytown," he said, "but they do a decent cuppa, you know, like?"
    Lydia couldn't figure out if he required some sort of response. She avoided eye contact in the rear-view mirror.
    "They do an all-day breakfast with a pot of tea for £3.95."
    Rory patted his stomach and gave the driver the thumbs up.
    "That looks like the business to me. Haven't been to a good old-fashioned greasy spoon in years."
    Lydia's stomach lurched at the thought of an Ulster Fry, but she reckoned she could manage a cup of tea. "Yes, great. Let's go."
    "Driver, come on in with us," Rory said. "I'm sure you could use a bite yourself."
    The driver didn't need to be coaxed. He was the first one out of the car.
    They sat at a small square table in the far corner of the café, Rory and Lydia beside each other and the driver opposite them. The table was one of half a dozen lined in rows of three along splotchy magnolia walls. Worn lino barely covered the floor. Three of the tables were yet to be cleared of the leftovers from the last wave of customers. The elderly lady behind the counter seemed to be in no rush to remedy this. The driver reached over to the next table and lifted a coffee-stained copy of The Sun. He started reading it from the back page.
    "I don't suppose you're a City fan?" Rory asked.
    He barely looked up.