by V Clifford
‘Coffee or food?’ Bella smiled and passed Viv a menu. ‘Specials are on the board. There’s probably only one portion of the venison casserole left. It’s rich.’
‘Sounds great. What veg have you got with it?’
Bella snorted. ‘You havin’ a laugh?’
‘Sorry Bella, I’m not with it. Been circling on empty for the last fifteen minutes. Blood sugar’s hitting rock bottom.’
Bella offered the same veg everyday because no one would let her change it.
Before Viv had her jacket off, Bella had brought an espresso and a jug of water and placed them on the old scarred wooden table in front of Viv.
‘Been busy?’
‘Not too bad. The venison shifted at the first sitting. Snow off a dyke.’
Viv smiled at Bella’s Scots-Italian accent, which made the phrase sound exotic. The casserole arrived piping hot with a bowl of veg and homemade ciabatta. Viv blew over her first forkful but still burnt her tongue and squealed. Bella shouted from the back of the counter, ‘Go easy, Doc. Don’t go spoiling those taste buds, I’ve got a lemon drizzle with Madagascan vanilla custard.’
This was just the kind of comfort food that Viv was in the mood for, and she salivated at the thought of it, never mind dinner out later on. Half way through her main course Bella joined her.
‘So how are you? I’ve seen you dotting about the market . . . not that there’s anything new about that.’
Viv nodded and between mouthfuls said, ‘Been busy. Here and there.’
Bella didn’t pursue her question. ‘Seen the new Deco shop across the road from you?’
Viv kept eating, swiping at the gravy on her plate with a chunk of bread. Then without lifting her eyes, ‘Yes. She’s got some nice stuff.’
‘Pricey?’
‘Nah. Fair I’d say. I bought a plate on the first day she was open and she gave me discount without me having to ask.’
‘Great. I hate that asking thing. Don’t get me wrong. I’d do it but I hate having to.’
Viv decided that Bella’s question was innocent and raised her eyes to look at her. Bella was tall and slim with a sallow complexion, a woman who would never know how beautiful she was, which made her even more desirable.
‘You want some of that drizzle cake?’
‘Sure. I’ve left a drizzle-sized gap just ready for filling.’
Bella stretched and threw her dishtowel over her shoulder. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Viv, already feeling more human, caught sight of a warden and leapt out of her seat. Fumbling in her pocket for her keys she ran out towards the car, shouting as she pressed the remote, ‘Be right back, Bella! Blue Meanie alert!’
She jumped into the car just in time and again drove round the block in search of a space. She found one at the bottom of the Bow and jogged back to Bella’s where an unexpected figure had taken a seat at her table.
‘Well, this is a coincidence,’ said Viv, with no small measure of irony.
With equal irony the guy with the almond eyes responded. ‘And your email isn’t working?’ Viv was caught off guard. She’d forgotten about his RP.
‘You from these parts? . . . Because you don’t sound as if you are.’
‘Wellington. That’s what you’re really asking, isn’t it? What school did you go to? The least creative question in Scotland.’
Viv grinned. There was a school, well more of a Borstal, outside Edinburgh, with the same name, but locals called it ‘The Welly’, a whole different set of entry requirements.
He stared up at her questioningly until Viv took her seat and Bella brought out her pudding. His eyes almost popped out. There was nothing modest about the portion that Viv was about to attack.
‘Wow. Are you hungry or what?’
Viv didn’t look up. ‘Feeding two.’
The guy’s back straightened and his face dropped. ‘Oh my God!’ Then he spotted the smirk on Viv’s face, and accepted the spoon that was being offered across the table. Viv withdrew her hand as their fingers met and her internal voice screamed out a warning. For a few minutes they were silent with only the odd nod of acknowledgement at the delicious cake. Eventually Viv sat back and wiped her mouth with her napkin. ‘So . . . how long have you been stalking me?’
He was about to protest but Viv put up her hand. ‘Don’t. You’re not telling me this is coincidence. So what is it you want from me?’
‘I thought we’d had a good time and so I don’t understand why you haven’t responded to my emails.’
Looking at the vision across the table Viv wasn’t sure either. Apart from the small detail of his being a student in a department where Viv had been a guest lecturer, Viv couldn’t think of a real reason. ‘Okay. Would you like coffee?’
He grinned and nodded. ‘Black please.’
Viv caught Bella’s eye and ordered. ‘Two black coffees please . . . I’m worried about the fact that you are a student . . . ’
This time he interrupted. ‘Actually. Technically we’re colleagues. I have a teaching fellowship so if you’re worried about ethics?’
He left his question hanging as Bella approached with their coffee.
Viv reflected on the last few days and let out a sigh. The idea of a further complication wasn’t in her game plan, but equally she liked what she saw.
‘Look, I’m sorry that I didn’t email you back. I’ve been busy. I’m not looking to have a serious relationship . . . ’ Viv stopped when she realised he was shaking his head.
‘God. Who asked for a relationship? I was hoping we could talk about Freud. The other night we got carried away with those cocktails but my partner wouldn’t take kindly to . . . ’
Viv flushed, mortified. ‘Oh. Okay. Freud it is. What is it that you’d like to discuss?’ Her phone rang, interrupting him with his mouth open, poised to speak.
Viv nodded and put her forefinger up, ‘Sorry, I have to take this.’ She scraped back her chair and headed for the door. It was Mac. ‘Viv, you won’t know, but the Grampian guys have pulled your girl in.’
‘You mean Tess?’
‘Yep, the very one. They’ve also got her boyfriend brother. You know I’m not big on making judgements about what folk do in their spare time, but I can’t get my head round this one.’
Viv didn’t know whether he was judgemental or not. In fact in the time that she’d known him he’d never once asked her about her sexuality. Occasionally a look passed over his face that conveyed his curiosity, but no question ever materialised and she liked it that way. Viv recalled what she’d witnessed in Aberdeenshire, two young people demonstrating love for each other. The crazy bit was their gene pool. They must be as freaked out about what was going on between them as anyone else. If what Beccs said was true, then Tess had been resisting him. But not any more.
Viv remembered that she was holding the phone. ‘Sorry, Mac. It’s just that what I saw looked so normal . . . until I remembered what their relationship is. Just two people . . . ’
‘Yeah, Viv, but brother and sister? Even you’ve got to find that weird.’
‘What do you mean EVEN me?’ Her hackles rose when he didn’t answer. ‘What is it with you guys? You’ve got to learn that you can’t keep lumping everyone who isn’t doing what you do into the same pot. For you guys there’s no line between . . . ’
‘Don’t even go there, Viv. What you’re about to say is not true of me, or anyone on my team, so back off with the accusations. And by the way you just did the very thing that you were accusing me of . . . lumping us all together . . . “you guys”. Like there’s only one cop mould.’
‘But . . . ’
He interrupted her again. ‘Don’t, Viv. All I’m saying is it’s weird and I don’t know anyone who would think otherwise . . . including you.’
She calmed and said, ‘That’s better. I do think it’s weird.’
‘Look, if you’d give me a chance to finish. Simon is saying, with no small amount of smugness, that they’ve done nothing wrong. In
fact he says that when he was a child he found papers that stated that Tess was adopted.’
Viv said, ‘Ah!’
But Mac continued. ‘The Gramps are checking that out as we speak. Tess, of course, had no idea. Been under the impression that what they’ve been up to, until now, was the most disgusting, but irresistible, thing in the world, she “couldn’t resist him” . . . Oh, and by the way, they reported that she’s covered in scars.’
An image of Rebecca’s scars flashed into her head.
Mac continued. ‘He, Simon, I might add, did nothing to enlighten her. Thought it was a laugh to keep her thinking that they were real blood relations. Little bast . . . Viv?’
‘Yeah. I’m still here. It’s disbelief. He’s such a nasty piece of work and yet if what he says is true the “Gramps” as you call them, won’t have anything on him.’
‘No they won’t . . . Incidentally, they’re only keeping me posted as a matter of courtesy, and I thought since you have an obligation to Ms MacDonald . . . ’
‘Yep. Okay, okay. I’m really grateful. I’m seeing her tonight.’
He made a comment that she didn’t catch and decided to let it go. Glancing back into Bella’s window she watched as the guy with the almond eyes played with his iPhone.
‘Look, Mac, thanks for that. I’ll have to go. Let me know how it turns out . . . if you can, and I’ll be in touch when I’m done at this end.’ She cut the line and sauntered back in to Bella’s.
The guy’s eyebrows shot up in a question, but Viv gave him nothing.‘Sorry about that. Now, I know it’s a bit late to ask, but I don’t think I caught your name last time we met.’ She grinned.
His slim fingers fiddled with some salt spilled on the table, his unconscious need to gather it into a neat little pile a source of amusement to Viv. Then, as if making a decision he sat up straight and threw his hand across the table for Viv to shake. ‘Jacob, call me Jacob.’
Viv took the soft hand. ‘That’s not what I imagined it would be. Mine’s Viv, but you already know that. Just out of interest where did you get my email address?’
‘Easy. I have my ways.’ He smiled, parting full lips and exposing a set of straight gleaming white teeth. The kind Viv couldn’t resist.
Now it was Viv’s turn to fiddle with the salt, but she stopped herself. ‘Now. Freud. What’s not to like about him?’
Jacob’s eyebrows knitted. ‘God. You really are a disciple.’ ‘No. Not a disciple, but definitely keen to salvage his reputation. He’s always getting a raw deal. Without him where would we be?’
‘We’d be paying more well deserved attention to CBT.’ Viv interrupted. ‘Ah. But CBT wouldn’t have developed the way it did without the Watsons of this world battling against good old Freud. They were desperate to find anything, and I mean anything, that wasn’t Freud’s. C’mon, admit it, rats and stats are not exactly relevant to us, are they. Freud is the father of all psychology today. Whether you like him or not is irrelevant. Before Freud we had the church. Psychoanalysis, and everything that comes after it, do as the church did, offer a place to confess but without the Hail Marys.’
Jacob sat with his mouth open, trying to get a word in.
Eventually Viv sat back. ‘There. Freud’s the man.’
He shook his head but smiled. ‘My God, he really has got beneath your skin.’
‘Look . . . ’ She’d already forgotten his name.
He came to her rescue. ‘ Jacob.’
‘Yeah, Jacob, only do a PhD on someone or something that you’re passionate about. Trust me if you’re not passionate, bordering on obsessive about Freud’s women you’re in trouble . . . Be prepared to look lumpy. You can’t do a PhD and not let it get under your skin and everywhere else.’ The aquiline head nodded as Viv continued. ‘They’ve already got to you, haven’t they. Which one are you working on at the moment? Let me guess . . . Salome, Bonaparte . . . or no, please don’t tell me you believe that crap about Mina?’
He sat forward. ‘As it happens I do believe what has been discovered about Mina.’
Viv took a huge breath in frustration. ‘What? One man’s speculation. He wasn’t under the bed for fuck sake. If you knew how many letters Freud wrote you would know that having an affair with Mina, his wife’s matronly sister, right under Martha’s nose is too far fetched. His pen never left paper.’
Bella arrived and with raised eyebrows offered, ‘Coffee anyone?’
Viv looked at her watch and shook her head. ‘No thanks, Bella. Just the bill when you’re ready.’
Jacob also shook his head. ‘Not for me either.’ But his eyes were screwed up as he glanced from Viv to Bella, sussing what their relationship was. As Bella moved away Jacob said, ‘We can’t leave the conversation hanging like that. How about . . . ’
Bella laid the chit in front of Viv who already had her wallet out and quickly laid cash on the saucer. Not answering the question she stood. Jacob followed her to the door where Viv gently placed her hand on his back, allowing him to exit first. They took a left towards Viv’s flat, but when they reached the stair door Viv turned. ‘I’ve got stuff to do right now but what do you say we have dinner?’ Then she remembered she was meeting Margo. ‘Actually not tonight. But tomorrow night.’
‘I’ll check my diary.’ Sarcasm oozed from his lips.
Viv looked at the ground, embarrassed, and scuffed an imaginary stone on the pavement.
He thawed. ‘I’ll email you if you promise to answer.’
‘I promise.’
He smirked. ‘I’m short of a fuck buddy at the moment.’ Viv’s horrified face told him everything he needed to know, and he jumped clear of her fist before it hit his solar plexus. He trotted up Victoria Street and threw an enormous grin back over his shoulder, as she stood, still dumbstruck.
Viv, finally gathering her wits, sighed and stuck her key in the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Viv entered the stairwell but didn’t head up. She had a quick look in her mailbox before taking out her phone and trying Lynn’s number again. This time the answering machine was on and Viv left a message. She waited a further couple of minutes then opened the door, checked the street for any sign of Jacob, and retraced her steps to the Grassmarket.
After such a generous lunch she felt snoozy, so decided it was best to leave the car and jog to Cluny, where the Mullans’s cleaning lady, Shaz, should be hard at work. Shaz knew Viv. They had had many a chat while one or other of the Mullans had been washing their hair. Viv ran up the steps leading from the Grassmarket to Keir Street, disgusted by the amount of paper and plastic littering them. At the top she wove her way along the lane that separated tenements and a wall topped with ornate cast iron railings that was the boundary to George Heriot’s School – once a refuge for ‘faitherless bairns’.
A short way across Lauriston Place she got into a rhythm and picked up speed as she swept down Chalmers Place, the home of the old Eye Pavilion. The Meadows were busy so she had to dodge cyclists and other joggers sharing the same path to reach the Links, reputedly the oldest golf course in the world. She reached Bruntsfield within fifteen minutes. Edinburgh had loads of big green spaces, but Viv, having spent many a sunny day in her childhood putting on the Links with her dad, was particularly fond of this side of town. Beyond the Links Viv chose to stay off the main road and wove her way through the affluent back streets of Churchill, cutting through the grounds of Astley Ainsley Hospital, to reach Cluny.
The Mullans had been in their substantial semi-detached Victorian villa since they had come to Edinburgh ten years earlier. The property that they were attached to was a Catholic retreat centre. Occasionally Viv had seen nuns driving into their sweeping drive, and wondered why the Mullans only had space to park one car.
Viv turned into the wide leafy avenue and strolled toward their empty drive. So far so good. She felt in her inside pocket for the package that Mac had given her. She stopped while she separated out the phone and the USB, tucking them each into a front
pocket. The bell echoed round the Mullans’s cavernous hallway before she heard someone clattering downstairs.
The door swung back and Shaz, clearly expecting someone else, said, ‘Oh, Viv. They’re no here. Are they meant to be?’
‘No. No, Shaz. I’ve been a bit of an idiot and left my scissors somewhere and I can’t remember where. Thought it might have been when I was last here.’
Shaz beckoned her in and closed the door. ‘I’ve no noticed anything. Where did you do it?’
This knocked Viv slightly off balance and she floundered for an answer that would keep her options open. ‘Well, I cut his hair in the kitchen but he asked me to take a look at a book he was reading that was in his . . . ’ She hesitated trying to remember whether he called the room he worked in his study or the library and decided just to point. ‘Through there.’
‘I’m in the middle of changing the beds for them getting back, but go ben and take a look.’
This was a gift and Viv made her way straight to the study. She scanned the room for his laptop but there was no sign of it and his desktop computer was off. How would she justify it being on if Shaz came back? No time to worry about that now. But as luck would have it, when she nudged the desk the computer sprang into life. As quickly as she could she found a USB port and began clicking at the keys. She wouldn’t call herself a hacker but others might. She heard Shaz’s footfall on the stairs again and ducked down beneath the desk scrabbling about on the floor pretending to look for her scissors.
Shaz stuck her head round the door and at first didn’t spot Viv on the floor, then giggled when she did. ‘I doubt they’ll be doon there. I’ve hoovered in there the day.’
Viv bumped her head on the way up and Shaz erupted into laughter. ‘My God. Yer scissors must be worth some.’
Viv walked round the desk and through to the kitchen. She leafed through a pile of papers and magazines on the worktop, clearly unable to find what she was here for.
