Shirley Dander lifted her take-out coffee cup, found it cold, and drank from it anyway. Then said, ‘Standish?’ ‘The Lady Catherine…’ Marcus made a swigging gesture with his right hand. ‘She likes the bottle.’ That didn’t sound right. Catherine Standish was wound pretty tight, and with her curiously old-fashioned way of dressing resembled Alice in Wonderland grown middle-aged and disappointed. But Marcus seemed sure. ‘She’s dry now. Years, probably. But if I know drunks, and I’ve known a few, she could have put me under the table in her day. You too. Sequentially.’ ‘You make her sound like a boxer.’ ‘Your really serious drunk approaches booze like it is a barfight. You know, only one of you’s going to be left standing. And the drunk always thinks that’ll be him. Her, in this case.’ ‘But now she’s hung up her drinking shoes.’ ‘They all think they’ve done that too.’
Dead Lions by Mick Herron (2013)
