the funeral details, insisting that he'd be there if it meant cancelling appointments.
I kept an eye on Mary over lunch, but she didn't seem worried about him. Sometimes, the closer you are to someone, the less likely you are to notice change, if it's gradual.
Once we had eaten, and Janet had been toileted, we got ready for the road. Rather than going straight back home, we took a detour over the hill to St. Andrews. It was Friday afternoon, so Jonathan and Colin would be clear of school and I decided to give them a chance to see the wee cousin on whom they both doted. As I've said, I'm very attached to both my nephews, having become a bit of a surrogate dad since Ellen and Allan split up, but I keep a particular eye on Jonny. The older he's grown, the more of myself I've seen in him, and I'm determined that only the good bits are going to come to the surface. Colin, on the other hand… well he's just Colin. He's as wild as purple heather, but I've a strange notion that if either of them takes after his father and becomes a work-obsessed nerd, it'll be him.
There was a time when Allan Sinclair tried to be a normal family guy.
My Dad and I took him golfing with us, but he was crap; he just didn't like the game. I tried him out at fishing, but all he ever did was fall in. He joined a five-a-side group at work, but broke his ankle.
He even joined a rough shooting group, but after not very long they asked him to stay away for everyone's safety. Then the job in France came up; he moved Ellie and the kids out to a remote picturesque village, and left them there all day as he worked longer and longer hours.
Finally, my sister did the inevitable; she moved out, went home to life and found a teaching job. Allan made a few noises, but the truth was that he was so wrapped up in his computer development work that he hardly noticed.
We found the lads where I'd guessed, kicking a ball around outside their mother's school, waiting for her to finish her week's admin so that she could knock off too. If Ellie was surprised to see us, she didn't show it, but she did button-hole me at the first opportunity.
'You seen Mac?' she asked. She's always been less reverent towards our father than me.
'What's up with him? I was down there with the boys last weekend and he was like a bloody grizzly. Colin was mucking around, and he actually fetched him a clump round the ear. He's never done that before. I don't remember him ever laying a finger on either of us when we were kids. I hit the roof, of course; I took the boys home, and I haven't spoken to him since. I'm worried about him, though, Oz. Has he said anything to you?'
I hadn't been ready for that, and I was angered by it, but I husked it as best I could. 'Yes. He's got a bit of man's trouble,' I said, mysteriously, but as casually as I could make it sound. 'It's the sort of thing that comes with age, and it's nothing serious, so don't worry about it.'
'What, you mean getting up to pee in the middle of the night, that sort of man's trouble?'
'You get the idea.' Being a good actor is an advantage in many ways.
'Make allowances for him; give him a wide berth for a while if you think it's best. I'll give him a bollocking and tell him to make it up with Colin. He seems to be growing by the day too. Is he needing a new bike?'
'In-line skates,' she replied. 'You know, roller-blades. They're the rage in St. Andrews right now.'
I slipped her a hundred from the roll in my pocket. 'Buy them and tell him they're from the Old Man. I'll get the dough off him next time I see him.'
She took it, but snorted. 'It'll cost him more than that. Jonny's still upset with him; you know how he looks out for his wee brother.'
Without a word, I peeled off another hundred and handed it over. My Dad's tab was building up, and I'd make sure he paid it too. He hadn't told me about clouting the wee fella, because he'd have known for sure how I'd react. 'Colin's the safest kid in St. Andrews, you know,' she continued, with a strange, soft, un-Ellie-like look of pride in her eyes. 'He's a little bugger, but he gets away with it, because none of his pals would dream of tackling Jonny.'
'Jonny? He's as nice a kid as you'd meet in a day's march. I've never seen him lift a hand to anyone.'
'He doesn't have to. There's just something about him behind all that niceness that says 'Don't. You wouldn't really want to do that, would you.' It's not threatening, but it's just as persuasive. You were the same when you were his age, you know' 'Me?'
'Yes, you. Maybe you never realised it, but you were a man of respect at secondary school. Big Man on Campus, that sort of thing, although you never, ever threw your weight around. And of course at primary, you had me to look out for you.' A job she'd done very well, I conceded.
'Maybe it's me the lads don't want to cross now,' I suggested. 'Or big Darius. Are you still seeing him?'
My sister has a boyfriend. Darius Henke is one of the top performers in the Global Wrestling Alliance, a team-mate of my friends Everett Davis, Jerry Gradi and, of course, Liam Matthews.
'Yes, but not in St. Andrews. I don't want to be the talk of the town. When he's free, I park the boys in Anstruther and we go somewhere nice. I've seen quite a bit of him lately, 'cos he's been on the injured list.' I'd heard that from Liam. 'Anyway, it's neither him nor you. Jonny doesn't stand in anyone's shadow.'
I looked across at him as we spoke. If anything, he seemed even taller than the last time I'd seen him, not that many days before; his features were taking on an adult cast and his shoulders seemed to be widening, taking on the bony look that comes with adolescence. 'Has he got a girlfriend yet?' I asked.
'There's someone in his year that he's friendly with, a lawyer's daughter. I don't encourage it, though. They're too young.'
I grinned at her. 'When they stop being too young, there won't be a fucking thing you can do about it. Want me to have a chat with him?'
It was my sister's turn to smile. 'There was a time, not that long ago, when I'd have said that would have been like sending him to the Casanova school for chastity. But you seem to have mellowed as a thirty-something. Aye, go on, if you want.'
'Bring them down to see us then. Come next weekend, in fact, before Darius gets signed off the crocks' list.'
Ellen pursed her lips, looking doubtful. 'Oh, I don't know about bringing Darius. We've never done the deed, so to speak, under the same roof as the boys.'
'Bloody hell, sister,' I laughed. 'Do you want me to have a talk with you as well?'
Twelve.
Joe's funeral was a strange affair from Susie's point of view. He was her father and yet she gave a sort of precedence to his sister-in-law Mira… her aunt, although I don't believe that she had any idea that she was. The crematorium chapel was full to overflowing; I knew that the old boy had been popular, but the turnout of colleagues, golf buddies, friends and neighbours took me by surprise. After the service was over and the curtains had closed… I always find that sort of send-off a bit theatrical… I took the precaution of calling the hotel in Bothwell that we had booked for the reception, and telling them to double the order of sandwiches.
True to his word, my Dad came through from life. He and Mary stayed close to Susie and me in the chapel, and we were well into the reception before I was able to isolate him for the word I wanted to drop into his shell- like. He took the rocket I gave him with appropriate contrition, promised to make a fuss of both Colin and Jonny, and even promised to send me a cheque for two hundred quid.
'Consider it a fine for being a grumpy old bastard,' I told him. 'And it'll be double for a second offence.'
I had hoped that Joe's send-off would draw a line under the unpleasantness in my life, and it did… for a day or two, at least. I worked on my movie script but enjoyed my break at the same time, getting a round of golf in at the new Loch Lomond course. It isn't too far from the estate, so I'd become a member. Pricey, but it's a great course.
I was able to play at home too; the previous owner of the place was a golf nut and he'd laid out three holes in one corner, well away from the house. It had been a real selling point as far as I was concerned.
Old Willie, the gardener, grumbled about having to keep the greens cut, but he was a master at it. I'd even inherited a golf cart, an electric buggy which joined the ranks of my favourite toys… and Janet's too.
The pair of us liked nothing more than jumping into it of a morning and cruising the place, and if you have a
