by Kerry Watts
‘Thanks, Maggie.’ Rob winked and nodded, then stuffed the ten-pound note back into his pocket.
Maggie wiped her cloth across the bar top and tutted in Jason’s direction.
‘What? I’m thirsty!’ He laughed.
Rob shook his head and smiled. ‘Get him another, Maggie.’
‘Aye, well, this ain’t free, Jason Ross, so get yer hand in yer pocket.’
Maggie winked at Rob’s grinning face.
‘Spoilsport,’ Jason teased, and sank the last of his first pint, then belched loudly.
Rob grimaced and wondered, as he often did, what Louise saw in him.
‘Is Louise OK?’ Rob sipped at his pint. ‘She’s cancelled on Cassie again and that’s the third time now.’
‘She’s fine. I don’t know why she cancelled.’ He hesitated. ‘Actually, she didn’t go to that book club of hers either this week. Don’t know why she bothers with that. She never reads the damn things anyway.’ Jason frowned, then returned to his pint. ‘So, how’s the missus? Still enjoying the honeymoon period, I bet.’ He winked.
Jason was Rob’s best friend. He was like a brother to him, but sometimes he could be so crass.
‘Yes, everything is good. I’ve never been happier.’ Rob looked away then and down at his shoes when he spoke. ‘Cassie’s getting her bag ready for the hospital.’
‘What? She won’t need that for a while.’
‘You know Cass, she likes to be organised.’
Rob raised his glass and caught Maggie’s eye. ‘Same again.’
Jason smirked. ‘Well, she’s in for a bloody big shock when the wee one gets here.’ He nudged Rob’s arm. ‘Lots of things change when a bairn comes along, I can assure you. Enjoy each other now because, when that bairn’s here—’
‘All right, mate, I get the picture.’ Rob dropped his change into his pocket. ‘What’s new with you, anyway?’
‘You see it all, buddy; work, sleep, repeat. That’s me at the minute.’ Jason caught Maggie’s attention. ‘I’ll take a whisky chaser when you’re ready.’
Rob sank the last of his pint. ‘Bugger it, mate. I’ll have one an’ all.’
‘Good lad!’ Jason gripped Rob’s shoulder and shook it.
Both men lifted their whisky glasses high.
‘Sláinte!’ Jason announced for them both before they sank their nips in one.
‘Argh.’ Rob screwed up his face and gave a shiver. ‘Yes! Hit me again, Maggie.’
Jason beamed and his hand reached for Rob’s shoulder again before squeezing it hard.
‘Won’t Cassie be sending out the search party for you?’
Rob glanced at his watch. Another pint wouldn’t make much difference. She would probably be fast asleep now, anyway.
‘Are you still celebrating the book launch then?’ Maggie laid another two nips on the bar.
‘Of course he is.’ Jason reached for a ten-pound note and slammed it down.
‘Does that mean you’ve read books one to four then, Jason Ross?’ Maggie pursed her lips and winked at Rob again.
Rob punched Jason’s arm lightly. ‘Ha! Roasted, buddy!’
Maggie threw Jason a narrow-eyed glare and scooped up their empty glasses.
‘She totally fancies you.’
‘Shut up. She’s old enough to be me mam.’
Rob Taylor was handsome. He was aware of the attention he attracted, but avoided it whenever he could. Being a muscular six foot three made staying in the shadows hard for anyone, but when you factored in the huge, piercing hazel eyes and blond hair, Rob Taylor stood out from the crowd. Jason wasn’t exactly short on admirers either. At six foot one, with the blackest hair to accompany his hypnotic, dark green eyes, Jason could certainly give Rob a run for his money in a beauty contest.
‘Seriously though, mate, well-bloody-done. I don’t know what you’re still doing in Inverlochty. Surely you can afford somewhere better after five books.’
‘I think you’re overestimating my success a bit.’
Although Rob could easily afford to move, he wanted to stay where everything was familiar, and that place was right there in Inverlochty.
Jason stood up quickly from his stool. ‘Louise?’
Rob turned to see Louise approach the bar with worry etched on her face.
‘Hey, babes, what’s up?’
Louise allowed her eyes to meet Rob’s, but only briefly.
‘Have either of you seen Shannon?’
It was obvious from her face that she was worried. Jason took her hands in his.
‘Have you tried Eric?’ he asked.
Louise snatched her hands back. ‘Of course I’ve tried Eric. He hasn’t seen her since this afternoon. She was supposed to meet him for a shake, but she didn’t turn up.’
‘Is she not at your—’
‘No, if she was at my mum’s I wouldn’t be here now, would I?’
Rob pushed his pint glass away. ‘Come on, Jason. We’ll check the park. You go home, Lou. Just in case she’s there.’
Louise avoided Rob’s gaze as she bit her bottom lip.
‘Call me as soon as you find her. It’s ten o’clock. She’s usually home by now.’
A loud commotion drew them outside.
‘Andrew,’ Louise shrieked and raced forward towards the stumbling figure coming towards her. ‘Someone call an ambulance!’
She tied her cardigan around his wrists to stem the flow of blood that was dripping from his arms and puddling on the ground at his feet.
‘Hurry!’ she screamed at Jason, just as Andrew collapsed. Before slipping into unconsciousness, Andrew whispered something inaudible in Louise’s ear.
‘Ssh, it’s OK, Andrew. Hang in there, help’s coming.’
Chapter Seven
1996
‘Sit down, Daniel.’ Social worker Camilla Walsh hung her cardigan over the back of her chair.
‘I’m fine standing,’ he answered without turning round.
Daniel Simpson enjoyed the view from that window. Before ending up in Carseview young offenders’ unit, Daniel hadn’t spent much time in the countryside. He did recall one holiday with his mum and one of her boyfriends when he was ten, although most aspects of that week were best forgotten. He remembered the smell. Daniel never forgot the smell from the nearby farm close to their rental cottage. When the window was open in the dining room at Carseview that exact same smell wafted inside, and Daniel liked it. It was bizarrely hypnotic and comforting; uplifting even.
‘I’d really like you to come and sit down.’ Cam shook her head at the officer who moved forward to force Daniel into a seat. ‘Daniel, I have something I need to tell you.’
Cam moved across to join him at the window. At five foot two she was dwarfed by the teenager, who stood almost a foot taller than her. She gently rested her hand on his arm.
‘Daniel, sweetheart, I have some bad news.’
‘Do you suppose he slaughters the lambs himself?’ Daniel scratched his chin and remained fixed on the field. ‘You know, gets really hands-on from start to finish?’
Cam raised her eyebrows at his question.
‘Your mum has died, Daniel.’ She had no choice. He had to be told.
Daniel’s eyes shifted for the first time. They drifted as far as the clock above the serving hatch. ‘It’s curry day. I fucking love curry day.’
Cam drew her hand to her face before she sighed and patted his arm. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow.’ She gathered her cardigan again and left the dining room after nodding to the officer.
Daniel’s heart raced, and he struggled for breath. He screwed his eyes tight shut and concentrated on his breathing; in and out, in and out until he regained control. He craved control. Without control, he couldn’t cope. He had to find a way out. He always needed an exit. He took one last look at the farm, then turned to the officer.
‘Can I go back to my room now?’
Daniel followed him out of the dining room into the hallway and sniffed. He was shocked by t
he feelings that were building, washing through him. He recognised the irony of the years he’d wished her dead, but the reality didn’t feel anything like the way he thought it would when the day finally arrived, which could have been any time in the past fifteen years, given Rita Simpson’s lifestyle. There were days she disgusted him so much he could have choked the pathetic life out of her himself, and others when she gave him a glimpse of the love a mother should always show her children. The unconditional self-sacrifice they deserve.
Daniel envied Jack. It angered him, the way he spoke about his mother. She nagged him non-stop, Jack told him; trying to control every aspect of his life, especially when his dad was away on the rigs. Jack became even more reckless during those weeks. Perhaps if he hadn’t been away, Daniel pondered.
Chapter Eight
‘His name is Andrew Foster.’ Louise stood back, biting at her nails. ‘He suffers from schizophrenia. Has done, for years.’
A handful of curious tourists stopped to stare before shuffling on, maps in hand.
‘Thanks.’ Paramedic Dougal MacLeod knelt close to Andrew. ‘Andrew, my name’s Dougal. Can you hear me, buddy?’ He leaned his ear close to Andrew’s face. ‘He’s breathing, let’s get him to the ambulance. Well done, you probably saved his life.’
Andrew Foster had been in Louise’s class at primary school. She remembered him as a dreamer with a huge talent for art and writing. He was writing poetry at ten while the other boys were still playing tag. It was Andrew who introduced Louise to watercolours. Sitting under the trees on the riverbank, sketching the finger-like branches dangling down to the water’s edge with a pad of paper had once been where she wanted to be. Listening, with her eyes closed, to the rush of the current pouring past the two of them.
Louise loved the river. She was in awe of her raw power. The power to choose, it seemed. Some days the water would meander and twist gently through town, barely noticeable as the rest of the world carried on its business. But there were days her presence was undeniable as she thrashed and hugged the riverbank on her race towards the sea at Dundee. The tropical scent of coconut drifting from the broom on the hillside was another memory Louise loved. Long days chilling in the breeze with Andrew, blethering about everything and nothing, watching peacock butterflies busy themselves with the task of gathering nectar.
She loved going to Andrew’s for tea, too. In a lot of ways Louise recognised her friendship with Andrew in Shannon and Eric. She kept the sketch Andrew did of her. One of the many he drew of her. It wasn’t something Louise felt she could part with, even if it was a source of argument early in her relationship with Jason. Louise regretted losing touch with Andrew at secondary school, but her life moved on. As far as she knew, he had been accepted into Glasgow School of Art and it was there that schizophrenia first gripped him. Mary Foster did everything in her power to support her son until her death a year ago. Community psychiatric services in rural areas are under such pressure, and the shortage of acute care beds was a disaster waiting to happen for Andrew.
Louise grabbed her phone. ‘Hello, Mum, no, she’s not back yet. I’ll call you when she gets home.’
Rob glanced at the stress painted on her face. ‘You go home. Me and Jason will head out and see if she’s at the park. We saw Ben heading there earlier. Shannon’s probably with him.’ Louise managed a small nod before ducking through the lane to go and wait for Shannon at home.
‘Who’s that?’ Calum Bailey handed his guest a glass of wine then licked a dribble off his thumb.
‘Thanks.’ Eric took the glass and slid his phone onto the coffee table. ‘It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’
Eric sipped slowly. Wine wasn’t exactly his tipple, but he wanted to impress Calum.
‘Are you sure? You looked very serious when you read that text.’
Eric didn’t want anything to interrupt his night, but he was worried. It wasn’t like Shannon to be out this late, especially without him. He was her usual partner in crime. The second text from her mum asking if she was with him made him very uneasy.
‘It’s Shannon – she’s kind of missing. Well, she’s not home yet, and her mum wondered if she was with me, that’s all.’
‘Does Shannon know about us?’ Calum’s fingers gently brushed Eric’s shoulder from behind him.
‘Of course not.’ Eric’s words were soft and low. ‘What we’ve got is between us, and anyway, we haven’t done anything wrong.’
Eric’s comment produced the sexy grin on Calum’s face that he loved. Eric wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise their friendship. Coming out had been harder for Eric than he made out. Calum’s support was important to him.
‘Have you tried calling Shannon’s number? Maybe she doesn’t want to speak to her mum for some reason. She might answer if she sees it’s you.’
Eric reached for his phone and dialled, shook his head. ‘It’s going straight to voicemail again.’
His frown told Calum there might well be something to worry about. ‘Look, maybe you should go.’
Eric was disappointed, but Calum was right.
‘Shannon, is that you?’
The front door clicked shut and Louise raced into the hall in the hope of her daughter’s return. The sombre faces of Rob and Jason sent shivers tearing through her. Her gut tightened not to see Shannon’s smiling face standing next to them. It wouldn’t matter where she had been or why. The gathering darkness grew inside her. Something wasn’t right.
‘Tell her what you told me.’ Jason pushed Ben forward.
Louise hadn’t even noticed her little brother behind them.
‘Shannon got pissed about me talking to that psycho freak. She went into his house with him.’
‘What were you talking to Andrew about? I warned you to leave him alone!’ Louise shouted. Louise despaired of her baby brother, because to her that was what he was. It didn’t matter that they didn’t have the same father. They were brother and sister. The huge age gap made her feel more like his mother than his big sister. Ben’s father arrived on the scene long after Louise’s left. She was about ready to leave home by the time Ben was born. Those few years with Ben’s father had been hard on both of them. She felt responsible for him, and she was responsible now that clashing with another stepdad made living with their mother impossible for Ben.
‘Whatever.’ Ben stormed past, slamming his shoulder into Louise.
‘Ow, you little shit!’ She rubbed the ache and scowled after him.
‘Do you want me to stay, mate?’ Rob could see the worry etched on Jason’s face, but Louise quickly answered for them both.
‘No thanks, we’ll be fine,’ she spoke directly to Jason. ‘I’m calling the police.’
Rob closed his eyes to the sound of arguing as he shut the door behind him with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.
‘Hey, Rob.’ Eric’s arrival startled him through the darkness.
‘Is Shannon not with you?’ he asked.
Eric shook his head.
‘Probably be better to leave them.’ Rob pointed to Shannon’s front door. ‘The police will be on their way.’
The enormity of Shannon’s disappearance hit Eric like a train. He clasped his hand to his mouth.
‘Jesus, I should never have left her.’
Rob wrapped his arm round the teenager’s shoulder. ‘It’s not your fault.’
The pair walked further into the darkness fragmented only by the flecks of blue flashing lights. Rob looked back once, desperate to stay and comfort Louise, but he couldn’t. It would be wrong to lie to them.
Chapter Nine
Detective Inspector Jessie Blake hung up her phone and shuddered. She hated missing kid cases. She felt bad about it but, nine times out of ten, her first instinct was that someone close to home was responsible. She read the text with the address and hit Dylan’s number. She was irritated when it went straight to voicemail.
‘Call me,’ she boomed. ‘Immediately.’
The thought o
f the hour-long drive didn’t fill her with joy. Highland Perthshire was stunning at this time of year, with the leaves evolving into a glorious spectrum of autumnal colour, but she didn’t look forward to driving the A9 in the dark. Coming back to Perth was the best decision Jessie Blake had made for a very long time. Still, she would have moved anywhere in the world to escape the memories. She pinned her shoulder-length black hair into a messy bun and checked her lipstick.
Her phone rang. At last.
‘Where have you been?’ she growled to DC Dylan Logan, then puckered her lips. She applied lipstick and chucked it and the mirror back amidst the debris at the bottom of her bag.
‘Sorry, Jess, Mum had another fall. A bad one. Might be a bit more than just bruising this time. They don’t know yet. My phone was in my car, sorry.’
Jessie felt guilty for booming at him now. Why did she always bark first and ask questions later? ‘Is she OK?’
‘What? Yes, well, not really, but she will be, I’m sure. The girls are great with Mum. I’ll come now.’
‘Scratch that. I’ll pick you up. You still at the home?’ she asked. Rivendell care home was on the way. It would be silly for Dylan to drive down, then back up and past it again.
‘Aye. What’s going on?’
‘Missing teenager up in Inverlochty. Hasn’t been seen since half three this afternoon. See you in ten minutes.’
Jessie hung up before making her way down the three flights of stairs in the old Perth police station building. Dylan teased her about her aversion to lifts, but she did it because it kept her fit – or so she told him.
‘Come on,’ Jessie tutted at the stop sign for the roadworks on the outskirts of Perth. ‘Is there any part of this road you haven’t dug up yet?’
It was as if the contractors knew her route some days and hotfooted it to dig up her path.
Dylan waved as Jessie pulled into the nursing home car park.
