MacFarlane’s eyes said not. He dropped his eyelids and said, ‘No… she’s left me.’
‘God, I’m sorry,’ said Leavey, exchanging glances with MacLean.
‘I got a letter. She’s been seeing this other guy; he’s got his own business.’
Leavey and MacFarlane exchanged glances again. ‘Have you been married long Willie?’ asked MacLean.
‘Three years.’
‘That’s tough, man,’ said Leavey.
‘To think I gave up a perfectly good “career” so that she could say that she was married to an honest man!’ fumed MacFarlane. ‘I’ve been freezing my arse off on the rigs while she’s been…’
‘Have another drink, Willie.’
MacFarlane looked at his watch and shook his head. ‘No, I must be off. The last train to Glasgow leaves in fifteen minutes.’
‘So, you’ve something planned then?’
MacFarlane looked at Leavey as if it was a trick question then said as if he had only realised it himself, ‘No, not really.’
‘Then why don’t we all go back to my place. We can talk over old times and you both can stay the night. There’s plenty of room.’
MacFarlane agreed after only a moment’s thought.
‘Fine by me,’ added MacLean.
Leavey’s flat in Aberdeen turned out be on the third floor of an unprepossessing tenement block not far from Union Street. The greyness and the rain made it appear more unwelcoming than it might have done in sunlight but MacFarlane admired the quality of the locks on the door as Leavey undid them. Leavey said by way of explanation, ‘I’m away a lot,’ and they all smiled.
When they got inside MacLean could see immediately why Leavey was so security conscious. The apartment was beautifully furnished with the most expensive of materials. Leavey apologised for the coldness adding that there was no point in having the heating on while he wasn’t there.
‘Have you won the pools or something?’ asked MacFarlane in admiration. He was examining the stereo system.
‘I don’t have anything else to spend my money on,’ said Leavey. ‘Besides, when you spend most of your working life up to your arse in shit, it’s good to have somewhere nice to come back to.’
MacLean nodded in agreement.
‘Maybe I’ll get myself a place like this too,’ said Willie. ‘Now that I’m single again.’
‘Why not,’ said Leavey.
Leavey and MacLean sat on facing armchairs, sipping Laphroaig whisky while MacFarlane did the same from one end of a matching settee. Miles Davies was playing quietly on the stereo. ‘So what brings you back to Aberdeen, Doc?’ he asked. ‘You’re not thinking of coming back to the rigs?’
‘I’ve got a problem Willie; I need help,’ confessed MacLean.
‘If it’s something I can do, you just have to say the word,’ said MacFarlane.
‘It’s dangerous.’
‘So’s crossing the road.’
‘I mean it. You could end up in a foreign jail or even dead.’
‘That dangerous,’ exclaimed MacFarlane in a muted voice.
‘Yes.’
‘I owe you, Doc. You can count on me.’
MacLean held up his hand and said, ‘You owe me nothing but I’m not a big enough person not to ask you.
MacFarlane looked at Leavey and asked, ‘Are you in on this?’
Leavey nodded.
‘Why?’ asked MacFarlane.
‘It’s a good cause,’ said Leavey matter of factly.
MacFarlane turned back to MacLean and said, ‘Tell me about it.’
MacLean told him the story and when he had finished MacFarlane said distantly, ‘Poor wee mite. You know, I always wanted a wee lassie myself.’
After a few moments silence Leavey said, ‘Well, in or out?’
‘I’m in,’ said MacFarlane. ‘Most definitely in.’
‘When do we start?’ Leavey asked MacLean.
‘As soon as possible.’
‘I’m ready,’ said Leavey. ‘How about you Willie. Is anyone going to miss you in Glasgow?’
‘Only the bookie.’
MacLean suggested that they travel south to Edinburgh in the morning. They could stay at Tansy’s place until they had arranged their travel to Geneva and then set off from there. Leavey asked him how the operation was being funded and MacLean told him about the insurance money from the bungalow.
‘That’s rough,’ said Leavey.
MacFarlane agreed and offered to carry out a ‘wee funding operation’. MacLean declined with a smile but thanked him anyway. They decided on a late morning train to allow MacFarlane time to go shopping for some ‘bits and bobs’ he thought he might need. MacLean said that he would accompany him and pay for the tools and equipment but MacFarlane wouldn’t hear of it. ‘Just a few wee odds and ends,’ he insisted.
Despite the lateness of the hour, MacLean phoned Tansy to say that he had finished in Aberdeen and that he would be home with two friends by mid-afternoon on the following day. Tansy assumed by ‘two friends’ that he meant Doyle and Leavey and was shocked to hear of Mick Doyle’s death. ‘Death suddenly seems so close to us,’ she said sadly. MacLean, anxious to divert her attention to something more positive, asked her to go up to the airline offices in the morning and pick up some information on scheduled flights to Geneva.
‘Consider it done.’
MacLean knew that he had drunk a great deal of whisky over the course of the evening but still felt stone cold sober. It told him something about the state of his nerves if he could burn off alcohol that quickly. He opened the door of the bedroom Leavey had told him was his and stopped on the threshold. It was like stepping into a different world. The room was decorated in traditional Japanese style and had a Futon in place of a bed in the middle of the floor. He was surrounded on all sides by Japanese screen-walling, depicting scenes from long ago while Japanese lanterns provided subdued lighting.
MacLean removed his shoes and proceeded to examine his surroundings. He found the control panel for the lighting in the room and with it some extra knobs with a musical symbol beside them. He pressed one and the room was filled with the soft tinkle of oriental music and a background sound of running water. The room was an escape from reality, which MacLean acknowledged with admiration for its creator. He undressed and sat cross-legged on the futon to look at the charcoal drawings on the screen walling.
Weeping cherry trees reminded of him of his promise to Tansy in the hospital garden, not that he needed reminding. It had become his raison d’etre. In front of him a Samurai warrior reminded him of Leavey himself, not physically, but in spirit. Leavey had that enigmatic inner strength which defied definition and went beyond bravery. He knew that he could trust Nick with his life but he also knew that he could never get close to him. No one could.
MacFarlane was very different, being as open as the day was long. He was a generous man with a big heart and a stubborn streak; in many ways he personified Glasgow. He took Leavey’s word for it that Willie was as skilled as he said he was and, if that was so, MacLean decided that he could not wish for two better companions for what lay ahead.
The next panel of screen-wall showed a vase with three flowers arranged in classical Ikebana style; Ten, Chi, Jin. Jutte had once explained to him the significance of the configuration. The longer he examined the flowers the more he imagined that Chi and Jin were intermingling as if life was returning to the earth. It unnerved him. He’d experienced the same feeling in Geneva when he’d sabotaged the car and watched three men die. He had taken an irrevocable step and nothing could ever be the same again. He’d crossed his own personal Rubicon and there could be no going back, just a relentless ongoing test of strength and courage ahead of him until an end was achieved. He looked back to the Samurai and could have sworn that he saw a smile on his face… or maybe the whisky was
