than to let slip any clues about where you live or to say that you’re a cop’s daughter. If I’d known you were on, I’d have heard the whole thing, instead of coming in halfway through it.’
‘Sorry, Pops.’
I reached out and ruffled her hair, as we drew to a halt at home. ‘G’roff,’ she said, grinning and batting my hand away.
‘I’ve got another treat for you,’ I told her as we went indoors. ‘Or Alison has, to be accurate. Fancy being a cabin girl? We’re going sailing.’
Her mouth gaped open. ‘We are? When?’
As she spoke, I saw the message indicator on the phone, flashing red. ‘Tell you in a minute,’ I said, as she headed for the stairs, and her sanctum, and I pressed the play button. It was a female voice, familiar; Jean, my sister-in-law.
‘Bob, phone me please.’ That was all she said; I had the feeling it was all she could say. A spasm of dread ran through me.
I snatched the handset from the cradle and pressed in her number. Normally she was quick on the draw, but I counted half a dozen rings before she answered. ‘What’s happened?’ I asked.
‘It’s Dad,’ she replied. ‘He’s gone.’
‘Gone?’ I repeated.
‘He’s dead, Bob.’
I had not expected that. A turn for the worse, perhaps, an admission to hospital ahead of schedule, but no, not that, not Thornie, not so quickly. I was struck dumb. I’d spent part of my afternoon looking at death, in its most graphic state, but I was unprepared for its invasion of my own home. ‘Jean,’ I whispered. ‘It can’t be. He was here only yesterday.’
‘And he told you about his illness, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, but he was still active,’ I protested, ‘still on his feet.’
‘But very slowly, you must have noticed that, Bob.’
‘Yes,’ I conceded, ‘but still…’
‘I know,’ she said, gently. ‘I didn’t expect it so quickly either. But his consultant did warn me, privately, that things could come to crisis point unpredictably, in a number of ways.’
‘How did it happen? How did he…’
‘I had a call from him on my mobile, around three forty-five, in the office.’ Jean was a hospital manager, in Wishaw. ‘His number showed on my phone but he couldn’t speak. I called his doctor and headed for his house. He got there just before me. He was ringing the bell and getting no answer. I used my key, and we found Dad dead on the kitchen floor.’
‘Oh shit,’ I sighed. ‘What a way to go.’
‘I know. I can’t get my head round it either, someone so loved, dying alone.’
‘Your sister did,’ I reminded her, tactlessly, but I wasn’t thinking straight. ‘You never get your head round it. What did the GP say?’
‘There was some blood,’ she told me, and then had to pause.
I tried to soothe her. ‘It’s okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘No, it’s all right. It won’t be undone by not talking about it. The doctor says that he coughed it up, after he had a massive pulmonary haemorrhage. It would all have been over very quickly. He would almost certainly have died wherever he was, at home or in a hospital ward.’ She gave a strange sound; it might have been a snort. ‘You know what? I’m cursing myself for not insisting on driving him through to yours yesterday. This could have happened when he was at the wheel. He could have taken people out with him.’
‘But he didn’t,’ I said, ‘so don’t dwell on it. He did what he came to do, and he left contented. Just you focus on that. Now, what do you want me to do? Can I help in any way? Do you want me to come through?’
‘No, Bob. There’s nothing to do. He’s been taken to the mortuary, and I’ll see the undertaker in the morning. I’ll let you know when the funeral will be. Are there any dates you’d like me to avoid?’
‘That’s thoughtful of you,’ I told her, ‘but don’t you bother about us. We’ll be there, whenever. Are you really sure you’re going to be okay?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, firmly. ‘I won’t be alone, Bob. I have a friend, a man friend that you don’t know about; he’ll be with me.’ So my prophecy to Alex had been right, I mused. ‘Anyway, you’ve got something to do at home. You concentrate on my niece. This will be very hard on Alexis.’
‘Indeed,’ I sighed. ‘Keep me informed. So long for now, and again, I am so sorry.’
I hung up, and turned, slowly, towards the stairs. Alex was sitting on the third step from the bottom, but she stood and came down into the hall. Her face was solemn and, the strangest thing, she seemed a little taller than she’d been before.
‘It’s Grandpa, isn’t it?’ she said, and all I could do was nod. I made to hug her, but she turned away and walked into the living room. I followed her, watching her, ready for her to break down. But she didn’t. She turned and looked at me, frowning and waiting for me to find the words I was after. That was the moment when I knew, beyond doubt, that I didn’t have a child any longer.
‘He died this afternoon, love,’ I told her, feeling my chin wobble. ‘Very suddenly, at home.’
‘He was ill, though,’ she murmured, ‘wasn’t he?’
‘Yes, my darling, he was. It was only a matter of time, but I never imagined it would be so soon.’
‘He told you yesterday, didn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you didn’t tell me.’
‘He didn’t want me to. In fact he insisted that I didn’t. But I was going to anyway; this evening, in fact. I’m sorry, love.’
She took my hand. ‘It’s all right, Pops,’ she whispered. ‘You didn’t have to tell me anything. I could see that he was ill. And I knew as soon as he said he hadn’t brought his golf clubs that it must be serious. I didn’t believe any of that stuff about the mystery tour.’
‘Maybe not, Alex, but that’s where he’s gone, on the greatest mystery tour of them all.’
She smiled, and her expression said that if I wanted to believe that, it was all right with her.
‘You can cry, you know, kid,’ I whispered.
‘I might,’ she replied, ‘but not just now. I’ve been crying since I was five, Pops. I’m only just learning not to. Besides, Grandpa wouldn’t want me to, and if I did, it would only upset you more.’
I let myself slump on to the couch and she joined me there, nestling against me as she always had done. ‘Are you sure you’re only thirteen?’ I asked.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘Alison says I’m going on twenty-five. And speaking of Alison,’ she added, ‘what did you mean about us going sailing?’
I told her about our invitation for the weekend.
‘Can we go?’ she asked.
‘Do you want to, given what’s happened?’
She pushed herself upright and stared at me. ‘Are you kidding? What would Grandpa tell us to do?’
I couldn’t argue with that thinking. ‘Okay,’ I promised, ‘unless his funeral is on Saturday, we will join Alison’s brother’s crew.’
‘Where will we be going?’
‘That’ll be up to the captain.’ I nudged her side. ‘See, kid? Mystery tour.’
‘Maybe we’ll meet Grandpa at the end.’
‘In this world, love, who knows? Hey,’ I went on, ‘fancy going out to eat? That’s all there is on offer unless you’re cooking, for frankly, after the day I’ve had, I cannot be arsed.’
Twelve
Neither could she, but the options on a Monday weren’t that great so we settled for fish suppers from Aberlady. A bad move on my part; the batter was heavy and I ate too many chips, a recipe for indigestion and a
