'You did speak to her though. What about?'
'Film. I told Fran that. She was a film freak. She even had a camcorder with her. She showed me how it worked!
'She was filming the party?'
'I don't know. Maybe.
She was talking about the film club. Why was it that all they had were block busters? Why couldn't we get some European stuff occasionally? She said that was the one thing she missed about living in Shetland. A good art-house cinema. She was pretentious, you know, in the way bright kids are, but she didn't take herself too seriously!
'Did you try it on?'
'Not seriously!
'What does that mean?'
'She made it clear she wasn't interested. You know me. I don't need to work at it. There are lots of women out there!
But Perez remembered other conversations with Duncan, the effort he'd put into charming Fran. If he'd been really taken with Catherine, he'd have worked at it.
'How did she seem? I mean what sort of mood was she in?'
'She was buzzing, really elated. I told her, whatever you're on, I want some of it!
'Do you think she
'No. She was young, that was all. Young and pleased with herself. The way I used to be!
'Did she stay the night?'
'Apparently. According to Fran she was seen on the bus from town at lunchtime the next day. But she wasn't with me. I was feeling sorry for myself, got maudlin drunk and passed out. It's been happening a lot recently. I only held it together yesterday because Cassie was here! He paused. 'Did you see her at Fran's?
My beautiful Cassie?'
'Yes!
'I wasn't sure I wanted a child when Fran told me she was expecting. I didn't think I was ready for it., Now I can't imagine life without her. I couldn't bear it if Fran took her away again!
'Is there any danger of that?'
'I'm not sure. She seems settled enough here, but you can never tell, can you? She'll meet someone else eventually. Now you have to go. I need to shower and change. I'm taking the afternoon flight south.
Work!
Perez stood up. 'When will you be back?' 'Tomorrow evening. You don't need to worry. I'm not planning on running away!
Before going back to his car and despite the rain, Perez walked round to the back of the house, which faced towards the shore. He stood for a moment, trying to find some shelter under the wind-stunted sycamores, and looked down at the beach where he'd sat with Alice. He'd been convinced that he loved her and couldn't understand why she didn't reply to his letters once she got home.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was Saturday. No school, but no rest. Usually on Saturday Sally went into Lerwick for youth orchestra practice. Her father often gave her a lift and stayed in town to do some work in his office. At least that's what he said. Sally wasn't sure. Saturday was Margaret's day for cleaning and laundry and nobody wanted to be around when she was in the middle of that. This morning Sally woke up feeling light-headed and strange.She'd had a disturbed night. Too much dreaming.
Sometimes she worried that was all her life consisted of. Dreams. Nothing in it was real. The family life her mother had created – kirk on Sunday, sitting down to tea together every night, everything placid and ordered and calm – all that was a sham. Sally went along with it for a quiet life. She pretended to be a dutiful daughter, yet there were times when she wished her mother was dead.
Even her friendship with Catherine hadn't been what it seemed and it had been a real effort to keep the resentment and jealousy from floating to the surface. Sometimes the effort of all that acting made her feel weird, cut off. Like she was looking down at herself. She'd tried to explain it once to Catherine, who hadn't understood it at all.
At breakfast she still didn't feel like eating. She could tell her parents were anxious and she quite enjoyed the idea that they were worried about her. It made a change. All that time when the kids at school had been picking on her, she'd tried to explain to them what was going on, but they hadn't really taken it in. 'Take no notice,' her mother had said. 'Sticks and stones!
'Why don't you give orchestra a miss today?' Margaret was putting the pans to soak in soapy water. Even at the weekends she didn't believe in a leisurely breakfast and the plates were snatched away as soon as you'd finished. 'It's delayed shock, I expect. Maybe we should ask the doctor to take a look at you. Have a day at home!
But that was the last thing Sally wanted. 'I'll probably feel better if I'm out!
Her father poured himself a last mug of tea from the pot. 'Why don't you come with me? It's my day for the beached bird survey. Fresh air and a bit of exercise. That might do the trick.'
She couldn't come up with any reason to refuse him. She could tell he really wanted her to go, and like her mother she found it hard to stand up to him. She went into the bedroom and changed into jeans and an old sweater, then stood in the porch to pull on her wellingtons. He was already waiting for her. Margaret came out with a flask and a packet of sandwiches and stood to wave them off. Sally could tell she was eager to have the house to herself.
They only made it untidy.
The rain had cleared overnight and it was a little warmer. A false promise of spring. Sitting high up in the front seat of the Land Rover there was a view across the fields to where Catherine had been lying.
One of the pieces of police tape had come loose. The ravens were sky-dancing in the thermals at the top of the cliff.
'What did she look like?' Sally asked.
He knew what she was talking about, but there was a moment's silence while he considered. She thought he was going to tell her not to think about Catherine, that she should put all thought of the murder from her mind. At last he said, 'She looked dead. I'd never seen a dead body before. You think it'll just look like someone sleeping, but it doesn't. You mustn't worry about what happened to her out there. The birds. All the rumours that are flying around. Whatever made her Catherine had gone by then. Long gone! He paused. 'Do you understand what I mean?'
'Yes, I think so!
Every month Alex walked a stretch of the coast looking for birds which had been washed up dead. He wasn’t the only one. All around the islands there were people walking their own patch, Pete from the RSPB, Paul, Roger, all the volunteers. It was a census, a snapshot of the health of the islands' bird population. He explained this to Sally as he manoeuvred the Land Rover down a narrow track towards a small farm. She listened, glad of the distraction. There was something comforting about her father's obsessions. They were always the same. The house at the end of the track was freshly whitewashed and a line of nappies blew behind it. As they approached a young woman came out and scattered grain to the chickens which pecked around the garden. She waved at Alex before disappearing inside.
'A young couple's just taken it over,' he said.
''Incomers. At least they're living there. It was a holiday let for a few years! She was surprised that he knew about the new family. She'd thought he didn't notice much about people.
He led her past the house on to a pebble beach. It shelved steeply into the water and there was a line of seaweed, piled up, which marked the high tide. She could smell it from where they were standing. 'We might find a
