Who is She?

by V Clifford

  This was exactly as it had been with Dawn. One minute all beautiful in the garden, the next black clouds racing over and all hell let loose. Now as she swallowed her toast she realised how much fear had been invested in that relationship and how different, how loving it was with Sal. Her mobile vibrated on the worktop; it was Brian’s number.

  ‘Hi Brian, how is she?’

  ‘She’s still with the vet. They kept her overnight because she was so dehydrated. They think it could be some kind of toxin. She’s been licking her paws a lot so I asked if it could be salt that’s been spread on our lane. We don’t usually get it, but someone has been out in the last few days and spread a load of it over the bridge and up the lane towards the castle. The vet’s not sure yet. Apparently some councils put anti-freeze in their road salt. That wouldn’t be good.’

  This was the most she’d ever heard Brian speak.

  ‘Sal is worried.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. She knows I’ve got a family funeral and will have to go to it.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll come up.’

  ‘You could wait until I hear from the vet again. Actually there’s another caller trying to get through.’

  He cut the call and she waited.

  Her mobile vibrated almost immediately. ‘That was them, she’s getting out. I’ve to pick her up as soon as. She’s to be kept quiet and . . .’

  He sounded stressed.

  Viv interrupted, ‘I’ve got a few things to do this morning, but I’ll come up after that. I can work from the cottage.’

  ‘Well, if it’s no bother?’

  She smiled, ‘No, it’s no bother. See you later. Oh, by the way, is the heating on at the . . .’

  ‘Of course. Doctor Chapman keeps it on round the clock.’

  ‘Right. See you later.’

  The cottage was beautiful, comfortable and cosy so it wouldn’t really be a hardship to be there, apart from the silence. Who could live without sirens? She checked her emails and answered a couple that were urgent. One from Jinty who said, ‘Phew! Concert went well, or wellish, and he’s left for London.’

  Jinty must have been pretty worked up about him and his questioning her to be this relieved to see the back of him. Better factor in another conversation with her about exactly what he wanted to know. Jinty wasn’t flighty. She was grounded, and if she was worried there must have been good reason. She sent a quick email back trying to fix a time for coffee. No immediate reply meant she’d missed her window. Jinty was a slacker in the social media department; only checked and compiled emails once a day.

  Viv had clients to see, a husband and wife team to cut, before she could take off to Doune. She threw essentials into a bag: seven pairs of pants and her toothbrush, a couple of tees and spare trousers, socks, and finally her laptop and a specific note pad.

  She was going to the north-west of Edinburgh. She could park in one of the wide leafy streets for a maximum of an hour. She’d have to be quick, but Joseph and Marie, not as biblical as they sounded, were always ready when she arrived. Both worked from home and were relaxed about taking twenty minutes out to have a haircut. Just as she expected Joseph opened the door and invited her in. His hair dripped onto a towel wrapped round his shoulders. He led her to the kitchen and she set up. The house was full of interesting bits of modern art, more at the crafty end than fine, but always interesting. A bowl with an iridescent bluish glaze sat on the kitchen table burgeoning with tangerines still with their leaves attached. Dragon’s heads, or were they gargoyles, rose up from its base their tongues lolling. Joseph and Marie both worked in graphic design. Viv was never sure exactly what that meant, but they were switched on about any exhibitions that were worth seeing.

  Joseph sat. ‘Marie will be ready in a minute.’

  Viv noticed a flyer for the Kurt Hahn concert on the worktop, ‘Did you go to hear him?’ She gestured with her head towards the flyer.

  ‘Yes, we did. Interesting.’

  Viv smiled, ‘Interesting, as in not very?’

  Joseph nodded, ‘Not our kind of thing in the end. Recommended by a friend who is usually on the money with his recommendations, but not so with the pianist. He seemed tense all the way through. You’ve got to expect a performer to be tense for a few minutes until they get into their stride, but he was rigid all the time. At the end he scanned the audience and the exits as if he was expecting to be . . . oh I don’t know. Anyway, how are you Viv? I’m guessing you didn’t attend.’

  ‘No, but I met him with another client and as you say he was tense.’

  Joseph’s hair was short and dark, his hairline beginning to recede, and with flecks of grey at the temples, but he was a striking looking man who could get away with any cut. Marie joined them and put the kettle on.

  ‘Coffee?’

  Viv glanced up, ‘Not for me, thanks. Already buzzing.’

  ‘Joe?’

  ‘Sure, I’ll have some.’

  Marie, tall with golden hair and a clear pale complexion looked like a Celtic goddess. Everything about her was slender; her hips, legs, fingers looked as if they might break at any moment. Viv wondered what their children would be like. Not that there was any sign of them having children. But sometimes there was just too much beauty and nature kicked it into touch with the next generation.

  Marie said, ‘I heard you mention the concert. Did you go?’

  ‘No, sadly I didn’t.’

  ‘Oh, not sadly at all. If we hadn’t been with a friend we’d have left at half time.’

  ‘We would not. We’d have given him the benefit of the doubt.’

  Marie glared at her husband. ‘Well you might not have but I would. It was the most ghastly performance we’ve been to in a long time. Even Ricky was disappointed.’

  ‘Ricky is always disappointed.’

  Marie handed him a mug of coffee.

  He gripped it but it was too hot to hold and he laid it on the table. Marie lifted it and put a coaster underneath.

  The tension in the kitchen rose a notch, but Joe didn’t say anything. Once the drier was on all opportunity for chatter was gone. Viv finished off his hair with a touch of pomade.

  Joseph said, ‘Thanks, Viv. Looks great, as ever.’ Then sloped off into his office with his mug of coffee.

  Marie sat down lightly on the vacant chair. ‘Right, time for a change. What do you think?’

  Viv had been through this so many times with Marie that she smiled and said, ‘Okay, how about graduation round the front?’

  ‘How will that be when I put it up?’

  ‘Should be fine, but you’ll probably have the odd tendril fall loose.’ She knew this would clinch the no-change deal.

  ‘Oh, I hate having bits falling onto my face. Let’s just stick with what we’ve got, only a bit shorter.’

  ‘How much is a bit?’

  Marie held her finger and thumb about a centimetre apart. ‘That much.’

  So less than Viv would take off normally. ‘Okay, no problem.’ She wrapped a gown round Marie’s shoulders and continued to section off the back. Viv could divide her clients into compliant and non-compliant. Marie was the latter, so when Viv tried to gently push her head to one side to get tension on the hair before cutting it Marie resisted. After two or three attempts Viv said, ‘Could you just put your head slightly to the right?’ Still resistant. Didn’t make for an accurate cut but what could Viv do? Doing the best job she could in the circumstances. She said, ‘So did you know anything about Kurt Hahn before the concert?’

  ‘Only that he was an amazing pianist who rarely comes to Scotland. In fact, I’m not sure it wasn’t his first time playing here. Never again.’ She said it with emphasis. ‘Never again would I sit through that racket.’

  Viv laughed, ‘Interesting what some people think of as music.’

  ‘I’m telling you it was as if he was being tortured. Who’d have known that a piano could produce such horrid sounds.’ Marie shook her head in disgust. ‘Anyway, what’s new with you, Viv?’

/>   ‘Oh, just ticking along. Managing to get most people fitted in before the Christmas break. Are you here or away?’

  ‘Supposed to be going to my family. Big grumbles about that though. Joseph says we always go to mine, but it isn’t true.’

  Viv wasn’t keen to be drawn into a domestic so changed the subject. ‘Off to Milan in the spring again?’

  Marie brightened, ‘Yes. Can’t wait.’

  ‘What exactly is it you do there?’

  ‘Oh, it’s just a chance for techies to get together and share what’s new.’

  Viv liked the sound of that. ‘D’you have to be invited?’

  ‘God no, anyone can go. The more creative the better.’

  Viv finger-dried Marie’s golden tresses, since the hairdryer made them frizz, then was on her way with her fee already transferred directly into her account.

  Next stop her mum’s, which was only five minutes away. She parked where she always parked, trotted to the door and pressed the buzzer to her mum’s flat. No answer. She tried again, still no answer. She walked round the side of the building to where Mand had parked and looked up at her mum’s windows. Curtains still drawn. This was completely out of character. Her mum was an up, showered and dressed with breakfast before 8am kind of woman. She returned to the front door and someone was leaving, so she slipped into the building and ran up to the first floor and rapped on the door. She heard a noise inside and said, ‘Mum, it’s Viv.’

  There was movement and a bit of a kerfuffle before her mum eventually unlocked the door and held it open.

  ‘What the heck?’

  Her mum’s clothes drying horse was lying on the floor partially propped against the entrance to the bathroom.

  ‘What’s that doing there?’

  Her mum folded the three sections into one and put it in the bathroom. ‘I just thought it would keep the door jammed shut.’

  ‘But why do you need it jammed shut?’

  Her mum turned away and shrugged, then sighed, ‘Oh I think someone’s tried the door at night. I know you think I’m being paranoid but . . .’

  ‘No, I don’t think you’re being paranoid at all. I’ll ask to see the CCTV.’

  ‘No, don’t do that. I don’t want to draw attention to myself. And I don’t want whoever it is to know that you know.’

  This was mad. ‘But if you’re unsafe of course we’d have to know. You moved into this ghastly place to be safe, to get away from the horrid neighbour who kept bugging you. There’s no point moving from the frying pan . . .’

  Her mum interrupted her, ‘I know. I just think this needs careful handling.’

  ‘And what exactly is “this”?’

  The older woman sank onto her small two-seater couch and picked at her nails. ‘I can handle this, Viv. There’s no need for you to get involved.’

  ‘Yeah sure, you might have got away with that a decade ago but not now. Tell me what’s going on.’

  A buzzer rang and her mum’s forehead crumpled in concern.

  ‘I’ll get it.’ Viv pressed the button to hear the caller. It was Mand. ‘Hi, in you come.’

  ‘It’s Mand, you can relax. I’ll stick the kettle on and you can tell us both.’

  ‘I’ve nothing to tell. But there’s shortbread in the tin.’

  Viv shook her head as Mand walked in the door carrying James and two huge bags, ‘essentials’ for a toddler. It seemed he needed more for one day out than Viv would need for a month away.

  Mand dumped the bags and handed James to her mum.

  Viv said, ‘Mum was just about to tell me what’s been going on.’

  ‘So, Jamesie, how was play group?’ Their mum shoogled James on her knee, clearly determined to avoid eye contact. Whatever the conversation had been before it was now over. The phone rang and she flinched, almost losing the boy off her lap. Mand leapt to the rescue but her mum recovered and got James in hand. She didn’t answer the phone. It rang and rang and rang. She continued to shoogle James and blether about nothing of consequence. Viv and Mand stared at each other in disbelief. As soon as it stopped ringing Viv checked the number of the last caller. Number withheld. Could have been a sales call but Viv wasn’t convinced. Viv’s own mobile vibrated, and she checked the number. It was Mac.

  ‘Hi, how are you?’

  ‘Fine. Just wanted to let you know that a man’s body was found in the canal this morning.’

  ‘I’m guessing they weren’t in swimming or part of a rowing team?’

  ‘No, inevitable dog walker spotted something beneath the ice. If she hadn’t been scrabbling at the side of the bank trying to reach her dog’s ball it might have been days before he was found. What would we do without dog walkers?’

  ‘How did he die?’

  ‘Not certain yet but he doesn’t look bonnie and not just because he’s a bit bloated. Looks as if he’s had an argument with a car and the car won. But don’t quote me on that. PM will take a couple of days. There’s been a spate of unexplained deaths. Thought you’d like to know though it’ll be on the news this morning. He looks like your guy Jimmy, although difficult to be sure. Odd don’t you think, that you were just talking about him and he turns up dead?’

  ‘Shit! Whereabout on the canal?’

  ‘Wester Hailes. Not his patch. He’s a Leither. Did you say you would do that run with me?’

  ‘No, I did not, so don’t push your luck. Thanks for the heads up.’

  Mand had made tea and brought shortbread while Viv was on her phone. The house was stifling as usual and she loosened her scarf and jacket. How did her mum stand it?

  Mand shot Viv a quizzical look, ‘Anything that I might like to know?’

  Viv glanced at the elderly woman sitting there in her beige summer lights and tried to comprehend the possibility of her having been some kind of operative. Looking at her now, she’d lost weight but looked fit, her forearms sinewy, fingers long and strong, not gnarled like many women of her age. But Viv didn’t think that she could run fast even if she needed to. How would she know though? She only ever saw her mum indoors these days. In that moment she had the craziest idea. ‘How about we all have a bit of quality time away?’

  Mand looked shocked. ‘Away away? You, me, mum and James away?’

  Viv nodded, ‘Sure. You, James, mum and I. Just for the weekend. What do you say mum?’

  ‘I say you must be mad. I’m not going anywhere. You three go, though. I’ll be fine.’

  This was not part of Viv’s plan, but she’d like to find a way of convincing her mum that it was just a jolly and not an escape.

  Their mum continued to chat to James until eventually the sisters realised that there was no way that she was going to speak about whatever was going on.

  Viv let go of a huge sigh, ‘Right, well, if you’re not interested in some family bonding I’m off. Sal’s dog is ill and I said I’d look after her.’

  ‘Really. Where’s Sal?’

  Mand knew little of Viv’s life so she was intrigued by the question, which pre-supposed there had been a conversation between Mand and someone else, perhaps their mum, about Viv’s love life. ‘She’s in the States.’ Suitably vague.

  Mand pressed, ‘For work or play?’

  ‘Work.’

  ‘Does she still have her place near Dunblane?’

  ‘Doune,’ Viv corrected automatically, then could have kicked herself for being so specific. ‘Right, I’ll be off. You’ve got my mobile if you need me.’

  Before leaving the building she made a visit to the warden’s office. There was a note on the door reminding people of her office hours and ONLY in an emergency was she to be disturbed outside of those times. Viv reckoned this was emergency enough and rang the buzzer at the side of the door. No answer. She tried again. Nothing. Viv cursed. What did she get paid for?

  The journey to Doune took fifty minutes. She waved at each speed camera as she sailed by over the limit. As she turned into the lane leading to Sal’s cottage, she dropped her shoulders and
cracked her head from side to side. She felt sluggish. Time to up her fitness regime. Babysitting for a dog would be the least demanding thing she’d done in ages; plenty of free time to jog around the estate. Poor Molly did at least stand up to greet her as she entered the cottage, but soon returned to the comfort of her basket by the Aga. Brian had left a note on the table with sachets of stuff to put in her water bowl to rehydrate her. No exercise for a couple of days, and small amounts of food often rather than a large amount at once. ‘I can do that, Moll. You and I are going to be just fine.’ The dog banged her tail on the floor at the side of her bed. At least she was trying to be enthusiastic.

  Viv set up her laptop in the conservatory where Brian had laid the wood burning stove ready to be lit. She wandered back to the kitchen area and put the kettle on. She hadn’t got the hang of the Aga, which took up a huge amount of space, but was delighted when it was on since it became the beating heart of the house. Sal was convinced that once you’d had an Aga there was no going back to an ordinary cooker, but that didn’t stop her from having a sort of Baby Belling type oven and hotplate as well.

  ‘So here we are Moll, just the two of us.’

  The dog licked Viv’s fingers but didn’t venture far from her bed.

  Viv reread her instructions and imagined Brian would be round as soon as he got back from the funeral. Sal kept a fully stocked larder and her freezer could feed the five thousand. Quite the opposite of Viv, who ate out most of the time and whose cupboard was always bare. It was weird being in Sal’s home without Sal there. Viv opened and closed cupboards as if she might find her hiding in one of them. By the time she’d made tea her computer was booted up and she emailed Sal to say that she’d arrived and Moll seemed to be on the mend. It didn’t take long for the dog to come through and lie across Viv’s feet as she clicked away at the keys. Must be where Sal worked.

  When Viv next lifted her head, the light was beginning to fade. She’d promised herself she’d run at least a couple of miles before dark. It took more will power than it should have to move the dog from her comfy position, but needs must and Moll went back to her cosy spot by the Aga when Viv went upstairs with her bag to change. She warmed up in the hallway with a few stretches then ran round the field directly outside the cottage. It was called the River Park for obvious reasons. Two sides were flanked by rivers: the Ardoch, more of a burn unless it was in spate when it turned into a torrent, the other the Teith, a major tributary of the Forth and a serious salmon river that locals didn’t want known about for fear of it becoming as over-fished as the Spey. It took her a few minutes to get into her stride but once she found it she ran on and on. There was a good loop that took her almost to Dunblane where she could return along an old railway line, a dog walker’s paradise and consequently she had to keep a close watch where she was treading. In less than forty minutes she was running back along the lane and over the humpbacked bridge before turning in through the estate gates and up the drive.