Bob Skinner
I wasn’t planning on rushing back to Gullane that night, for reasons that were both personal and domestic. I knew the kids would be back home, so I called them and had a chat with each of them. They’d had a good week with their mother, and didn’t sound as if they were missing America one bit, although Mark took me by surprise by asking if he could have a mobile phone. He’s a responsible kid and he’s never given me a moment’s trouble since he came into our family, so I said that he could, subject to Sarah’s agreement, yet when I hung up the phone I was left with an inexplicable notion that, somehow, I’d been stitched up.
I was pondering this when my personal mobile sounded: as you’d expect, I have two, police and private. I checked the screen and saw that it was Aileen calling. I thought about letting it go to voicemail, but I couldn’t let myself be that petty, so I picked up.
‘Hi,’ I said, quietly, ready to signal a truce.
‘How are you?’ she asked; something in her voice told me that she wasn’t.
‘Busy,’ I replied.
‘Me too. Listen, Bob, I’ve been thinking. I have some constituency stuff to take care of in Glasgow tomorrow. Rather than have you glowering at me across the table before you disappear off to the pub for your Friday swill, I’ll go through there tonight and stay in the flat. Okay?’
Enough of being conciliatory. ‘Would it matter a toss if I said it wasn’t?’ I snapped. ‘You suit yourself, dear: as usual.’ I hit the red button to end the conversation.
I sat there for a couple of minutes, wondering how something could go so wrong so quickly. I could have made it right with one phone call. All it would have taken was for me to hit the return button and say, ‘Aileen, you’re right and I’m wrong. Your crowd are the policy makers and I’m the public servant. I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on and let you get on with your job.’
Why not? Why didn’t I do that? After all, and you can trust me on this, I knew that I had no chance of winning the war I’d declared. I have power, sure, but not Clive Graham’s kind, not Aileen’s kind. Yes, I could have faced the facts, accepted the inevitable and tried to live with it.
And lived with myself at the same time? Not a chance, because I believed then, as I believe now, that what they were planning to do was not in the best interests of the people that I was appointed to serve. Not a chance, because a man can’t preach about values and principles to his children when he’s abandoned his own.
‘Bugger!’ I growled, then turned to my computer, opened a new document and started to type, to draft the letter of resignation that I would submit on the day that the unification legislation was passed.
I was still considering whether to begin ‘It is with great regret. .’ when my personal mobile trilled again, on my desk beside the keyboard. I assumed it was the bell for round two. I’d have stayed in my corner had I not glanced at the readout. Wrong wife.
‘Hello, Sarah,’ I answered.
‘You sound beat,’ she said.
‘Do I? I’m sorry. Tough twenty-four hours, and I’m still in the office. I shouldn’t let it get under my skin.’
‘Trouble in Harmony Row? Or am I not allowed to ask?’
‘You are very definitely not,’ I warned her. ‘What’s up anyway?’
‘Nothing specific. I was worried about you, that’s all.’
‘Why, for heaven’s sake?’ I exclaimed.
‘I dunno. Last night at the crime scene, you didn’t seem yourself.’
‘How do you know what my self is any more?’
‘Hey,’ she protested, ‘how many years were we married?’
‘More than enough,’ I chuckled.
She sniggered too. ‘Probably, but in the time we were you don’t think I got to know you? I can tell when you’re not focused and last night you weren’t. You’re okay, aren’t you, physically? Your pacemaker hasn’t been playing up, has it?’
‘What pacemaker? I barely remember that it’s there. I have my annual check-up and each year they tell me that the battery’s going to last a little longer than they expected.’
‘That’s a good sign,’ she said. ‘It means your heartbeat needs very little regulation.’
‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d heard it. .’ I stopped, but by then I’d said too much.
‘I see. I won’t pry, honest. Actually there was a work reason for me calling you. I wondered if you had any feedback from the autopsy on our client from last night.’
‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘I’m completely up to speed. I don’t just know what he had for dinner, I know where he had it. I know also that he was with two other men, and I’m assuming that when he died they were the ones who buried him and called us.’
‘Hey,’ Sarah exclaimed, ‘young Sauce is on the ball, isn’t he?’
‘More than you know,’ I told her. ‘Things happen to Sauce. He’s a magnet for them.’
‘You should be careful. You sound paternal when you talk about him; if you let other people in the force hear that tone they’ll get to resent him pretty quickly.’
She had a point. That woman always could read me like a Kindle.
‘I’m aware of it,’ I said. ‘But the people he works with rate him just as highly as I do. He’s about to be promoted, on his DI’s recommendation, but he doesn’t know yet.’
‘Thank God you’ll be retired,’ she murmured, ‘by the time our kids are old enough to join the force.’
‘As they will over my ancient body!’ I retorted. ‘Speaking of our kids, Mark’s just asked me if he can have a mobile. I didn’t think he was interested in one, but it’s okay with me if you’re onside.’
I heard a gasp. ‘The cunning little. .’ she exclaimed. ‘Mark isn’t interested, not really; he’s been played by his brother. Jazz nagged me about that very thing this afternoon. I told him no way was he having one before Mark, and that I would talk to you about it.’
I had to laugh at that one. ‘What a player! Hey, maybe I should encourage him to be a cop after all. If he’s as manipulative as that now. . I may have to head him off from being a politician.’
Fortunately, Sarah didn’t latch on to that one. Instead, after a few seconds’ silence, she asked, ‘Are you really still at work?’
‘Yup, ’fraid so. I’m waiting for a couple of things, then I have to make a call. No rush, though. Aileen’s going to Glasgow and Trish is looking after the kids.’
‘In that case,’ she hesitated, then. . I could almost hear the splash as she took the plunge, ‘would you like to eat with me?’
‘Are you kidding?’ I exclaimed.
‘No, I’m not. We have matters of common interest, three of them. Surely it’s not unreasonable for us to meet to talk about their future.’
‘When you put it that way, no it isn’t.’ I stretched in my chair, feeling, all of a sudden, as tired as Sarah had claimed I sounded. ‘Ah, what the hell! Where? Nowhere too crowded.’
‘Everywhere’s crowded on a Friday night, Bob. Come to my place. I’ll burn you a steak. .’
I smiled, and finished the quote for her. ‘. . and smother it in onions.’
She’d taken that line from an old Paul Newman movie she’d seen as a kid, and made it real many times when we were together. Sarah can burn a steak to perfection, and as for the onions. .
‘Okay, I’m sold,’ I said. ‘I’ll bring a bottle of something decent, but you’ll have to drink it.’
‘Not me, hon. I don’t partake these days.’
‘Eh?’ How many surprises in one day? Sarah loved fine wine.
‘It’s too easy for a single woman to sit at home and sink a bottle a night,’ she explained. ‘I’ve looked at too many diseased livers to want anyone looking at mine one day and wincing. But I do like Vichy Catalan, that mineral we used to drink in Spain, if you can find any of that.’
‘Okay, I’ll try to be with you by eight,’ I promised. ‘But don’t cook anything till I call to tell you I’m on the way.’
‘As if I would!’
