Water's Edge

by G R Jordan

  “No, come to think of it, I didn’t.” She started to shake and Macleod could see the cogs in her mind starting to put pieces together.

  “You’re here for the murder, aren’t you? He could have... I could have been...” The girl began to weep and Geraldine put an arm around her. Macleod wondered just what to do as he couldn’t talk about the case itself, couldn’t offer a full explanation.

  “Anna, I will need you to come down to the station tomorrow and make a full statement to the effect of what you have just told me. I also think you should talk this through with someone trained in counselling. We can get details for you. But you’ll have to trust me when I say, you were not his target and I doubt you were in any real danger despite this very unpleasant experience. You said yourself he was looking for someone else.”

  “Do you pray, Inspector?” asked Geraldine.

  “Yes, madam, I do.”

  “Then please join us as we pray for Anna.” With that Geraldine bowed her head and began to speak out loud, invoking her God’s assistance. Macleod bowed his head and listened to the old woman asking for the girl’s peace and cleansing from this horrible incident. As the woman prayed, he felt a warmth inside, like a presence was with him. It reminded him of when he prayed with his wife. Standing there in this mundane hall, he fought between the joy of feeling this precious experience that mirrored that which he had with his wife, and the pain that every memory of her brought, knowing what he had lost.

  “Thank you, Inspector,” said Geraldine when the prayer had finished, “I’ll make sure Anna gets down to you tomorrow.”

  “You should really let her parents know.”

  “I will but she is eighteen. And she’s also my grand-daughter.”

  Macleod nodded. “I’m sorry for your experience, Anna, but you’ve been a great help. Thank you all for your time.”

  As he left the building, Macleod felt that same warm glow inside. He looked at the street opposite that would take him back to the station. Surely there would be no harm in taking a longer route back. He turned the opposite direction and headed towards the car park and the harbour. On arrival, he found the car park almost full and people were moving about towards whatever evening entertainment they sought. Macleod ignored them all and stood at the barriers on the far side of the car park, looking down at the harbour water as it splashed up against the retaining wall.

  She had been so vibrant. If only she’d had the chance like Geraldine, she could have prayed like that. She did in front of him. She was freer in everything when they were alone. He missed her. All of her. He had held it all tight within, his loss, his pain, his anger. All because she was the one who had been able to unzip his baggage. And now when his pain was at his greatest, she was no longer around.

  The water splashed again below him and he watched the froth splatter and then fall back along rocks. It was soothing being by the sea again. And yet it had also brought back the pain. Part of him thought he could stay here forever tossed about in his lonely vessel. But he was a detective and this was solving nothing.

  Chapter 15

  Macleod was surprised to see Allinson in the hotel lobby. A message from McGrath had told him she had already left the station and that she would meet at the hotel as he had previously requested. Allinson is still in his suit and tie, so at least he’s here to work, thought Macleod.

  “Evening sir,” said Allinson, “Hope’s gone up for a shower. She said I should wait for you and then go up for the briefing. Said it best if I joined you, if you don’t mind of course, just to keep me informed about everything.”

  “Of course,” said Macleod, “I’m sure Detective McGrath is correct in her logic.” Brushing past the man, Macleod asked for his key at the reception desk. “Well, follow me, Allinson. I’ve had a long day and it isn’t finished yet.”

  He did not wait for an answer and strode off to the stairs that lead to his floor. He could hear Allinson following but did not turn round until he got to his room. Opening the door with his key card, Macleod let Allinson in and pointed to the small kettle.

  “I’ll get McGrath. Make yourself useful, Allinson and put the kettle on. We’ll need a cup from McGrath’s.”

  Letting the door close, he took the three steps to McGrath’s door and knocked loudly as he could hear the shower. There was her voice telling him she was coming, followed by a swear as she appeared to hit an appendage on something before the door was opened.

  Macleod was taken aback as Hope stood in front of him wrapped in a towel with another around her head.

  “Hello, sir. Apologies but running a bit late. I’ll be a minute, come in.”

  Macleod knew he should simply excuse himself and he would see her next door when she was ready. But he could not help but stare at her legs and wrapped up body as she turned round and pulled out a seat for him. He saw the crop top, leggings and hoodie on the bed and for a moment thought she was going to change right in front of him. This would not do.

  He remembered his wife changing in his bedroom, one of those conceits of married life. It was always enjoyable seeing her body as she would talk to him about something mundane. Occasionally he would even sneak up on her and give her a cuddle and then...

  “Sir?”

  “Sorry, McGrath, was somewhere else. I’ll go next door, Allinson’s waiting. We need an extra cup too.”

  “Yeah, I know sir. I could do with speaking to you first though,” said Hope.

  “Well I can hardly stand here, you need to get some clothes on.”

  “Most men don’t complain,” teased Hope.

  He should have said something simple like I’m sure they don’t but instead he stayed silent, standing there. He did not look away but was still looking at her as she turned towards him. And then there was a moment of recognition. She should have seemed embarrassed, told him it was best for him to wait outside, which was the sensible thing to do. But she stood and looked at him.

  Inside something leapt, a spark of life that had been dead for so long. The memory of his wife being like this with him watching her flooded his mind and then he began to feel ashamed. This was not his wife. This was McGrath, his deputy. She unwrapped the towel covering her hair and the wet mass of red hair fell onto her shoulders and he saw the small cross jangle at the top of her cleavage.

  “I’ll change in the bathroom,” said Hope, smiling. “But we need to keep the voices down as I think these walls are paper thin.”

  “Okay,” said Macleod, “but what’s so important?”

  Hope disappeared into the bathroom but left the door open. Taking a seat, Macleod looked at the essentials on Hope’s desk. She had a few books, one a raunchy novel which made him almost shake his head. On top of it was a commentary on the state of Africa, a book on literature and finally a walking guide. Beside these was a hairbrush, remains of red hair still attached. And then there was a packet of ladies things as Macleod always knew them. His wife always kept her sanitary products hidden and Macleod blushed slightly seeing them.

  “I wanted to tell you about Allinson. He’s not just here for a briefing, although I think that will be useful. We might have some, relations, later. I wanted to check if you were okay with that.”

  Something in Macleod was not okay with it but it was not the business of policing that was the issue. He recognised the pang of jealousy.

  “If it doesn’t interfere with the job, it’s none of my business. You are free to do as you wish. Just don’t flaunt it in public. Not that I’m suggesting you would.” His eyes roamed the room as he felt anger at himself for being attracted to this woman. And then he saw her in the mirror. It was a clear view into the bathroom and she was rubbing herself down, her back to him. He wanted to turn away but found he could not.

  “I thought it best I ask,” said Hope, “just as we haven’t worked together before. I don’t do this a lot by the way. Just feeling a bit, well, you know.”

  “Yes, well, as I said, you don’t need to ask, or explain.” He did know,
looking at her bare behind he realised how much he missed the touch, the feel of his wife. Or was it simply of a woman? She was gone and yet he felt like he was betraying her, here and now.

  “There’s nothing decided of course, he’s just here for a drink tonight. He had asked me to dinner but with what’s happening later that was put to bed.”

  “Of course,” said Macleod “You don’t need to explain. As long as you are ready tonight, I don’t care.” Except I do, he thought. Dear God, what is this? Is this temptation, because it feels like a gift?

  Hope turned round and there was the briefest moment when she saw him looking. Her towel had been covering most things but as he spun his head away, he saw her smile.

  “You said we need a cup, sir? I have them in the cupboard space below the kettle. Would you grab one?”

  “Of course.” Something inside burned, a hunger. “And as we are starting to know each other better, Hope, and need to work more closely, you can call me Seoras.”

  Hope stepped out of the bathroom in her underwear and her crop top. “Seoras, sir?”

  “It’s Gaelic.”

  “Seoras. It suits you.” She turned back into the bathroom but he knew the image of her standing there smiling as she took in his name was being imprinted onto his brain for keeping.

  A few moments later, Hope stepped out and reached past him for her hair brush. Standing in front of the mirror, she took long raking brushes of her red hair and he lapped up the vision. Again, he had not seen a woman do this in so long. Yes, he had missed the physical things with his wife but these simple but intimate acts of grooming were things men did not see that often, unless they shared a room. He watched her arched body as she focused hard on her job.

  “I’ll go next door, otherwise Allinson will be getting worried.”

  “Okay, Seoras.” Hope smiled and Macleod stopped beside her.

  “Only between you and me though. Out there, I’m sir and you’re McGrath.”

  “Of course. You must tell me about this place sometime.”

  “I doubt it will be of any help in the case, it was twenty years ago.”

  “I know, Seoras. But it is still bothering you. Something is bothering you being here. It’s not that difficult to see.”

  He nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Yes Hope, but keep that to yourself.”

  Macleod, with cup in hand, left the bedroom and took the few steps to his own. As he went to swipe with his key card he stopped. His hand was shaking as a memory struck his mind. It had been their honeymoon and they had saved to get away to Portugal. And after all the excitement of the wedding, the mass of family and friends, they had finally gotten to being alone. Having saved themselves for each other, he remembered coming up to their room from outside his hotel.

  They had stood watching the sun at the beach and she had told him to wait for twenty minutes before coming up. At the time he was excited but also a bit confused. His father had told him how his mother was forever getting ready but this was not that. Leaving the stunning sun streaking its last furore before sunset, he had climbed the stairs all the way to the eighth floor before standing outside their room. Knocking the door, he had watched it open to the greatest vision he had seen in his life. And once the young man had seen past the delight of her beauty, he had also seen the wonder of her, how she was one of life’s restricted souls, held down by systems and suspicions.

  Standing at his door now, about to knock, it all flooded back. “I’ll just be a moment,” he spluttered at the door and walked off. He thought he heard Allinson acknowledge but he did not care. Walking quickly, he rounded the end of the corridor and looked out the window in the wall. The gas works looked back at him but he did not see them. He saw very little. Eyes welling up, he sniffed back pain and hurt, he pushed against the lonely feeling that had haunted him since she had left him.

  His father had never cried, never shown any weakness. As he grew up he had been taught to show no emotion but she had shown him emotion, all sorts. Together and alone they had worn themselves on metaphorical sleeves. But as much as he got closer, he eventually saw her pain and did so little about it. In their private world, they were happy but the invasion of this rigid house of cards they lived in broke her and he did so little to fight it. And so he cried.

  Jesus wept. That was what she had said to him. Jesus wept. The man, the God he had followed since youth, was brought alive by her in their pain. He had drawn so close with her. But then He let her rip herself away. Why? Fucking why?

  A hand slipped into his and he turned to see Hope’s face. “I’ve given Allinson some nonsense about you having a tick that needs to be got rid of. Take your time, Seoras.”

  Chapter 16

  Macleod dragged himself from his bed and looked in the mirror. After his meeting with Hope and Allinson, he had gone to bed with the desire of getting a few hours’ sleep before the night-time trip they had planned. But he had barely slept. His time in Hope’s room mixed with memories of the past and all he had done was to go over why his wife had left this world, and why he was finding himself deeply attracted to the younger Detective on his team.

  Flicking on the bathroom light, he heard the fan begin to drone and he switched on the shower. Stepping into the bath and then pulling the curtain across, he felt the blast of the shower, like it was trying to sweep him away. But the water felt good on his tense shoulders and he stood still as it did its work.

  By the time he had dressed, he thought he heard movement from next door. Hope and Allinson had retired from his room and headed towards the bar and he had mixed feelings about this rendezvous. He was putting his feelings for Hope down to the trauma of coming back to the island and reliving his wife’s death. Hope was providing a boon and after such a long time with no intimacy, it was no wonder he was falling for a woman who was reaching out to his pain. But he knew it was not the real thing. It could not be.

  Putting on a short jacket, he exited his room and stood in front of Hope’s. Knocking gently, he stood and waited as he heard her moving about. The door opened presently and the red head was standing before him in her boots and jeans with a floppy cream sweater on.

  “Come in, I’m just about there,” said Hope looking a little bleary eyed.

  Macleod stepped in as Hope retired to the bathroom, presumably to fix her hair which was still looking much wilder than he could remember. As he stood at her table, he looked at the bed and noted it had only been slept in by one. He felt a tinge of delight at this and then chastised himself for his foolish feelings. Dear God, what a mess I am.

  Returning from the bathroom, Hope was tying her hair up in a ponytail and looked with concern at Macleod. He nodded back what he trusted was a convincing stance of being alright but he was not sure it had worked. She was a detective, after all, and like himself could read people. They made their way downstairs to the car and Macleod let Hope drive to the Castle grounds where they parked in the almost empty car park at Lews castle.

  “So, where to from here,” asked Hope, stepping out of the car.

  “We take the path up into the grounds. The place she indicated is a small pool with a garden close to the river. It makes sense as she could watch us arrive without being seen. She said alone but I don’t go to see potential murderers on my own at night.”

  Together the pair started their walk and Macleod found himself remembering childhood days spent around the paths of the grounds, hiding out here and there. But he also remembered a young woman taking him on midnight walks by the river in the grounds and his first kiss. Although they had waited until marriage to become fully intimate, they had made out as the kids today said, many times by the river.

  He tried to focus on the job in hand but the quiet as they walked was leading him into deeper thoughts and so he decided to break the silence.

  “How did your evening go?” asked Macleod.

  “Well there really wasn’t much evening left. We had a quick drink and then I hit my bed. I think he was disappoin
ted.”

  “You’re in the middle of a case and about to get up a few hours later. I think he was lucky to get a drink with you.”

  “I think he was wanting more, Seoras. I thought I was wanting more too but I just felt tired in the end. It’s not like me.”

  “We were always told that there was nothing wrong with waiting. I waited with my wife for years until we were married and I don’t regret it. Not that anyway. You have to understand that growing up here, you at least said all the right things. We used to walk these paths and if you look over there beside that path, that was a favourite spot for us. You can see the sun come up, although we saw little sun. Saw plenty of each other.”

  “Sounds like you were quite the guy back then,” said Hope with a grin.

  “She was quite a woman. Not a tart, not putting it on offer for whoever. But when she had settled on me, we had our moments. In those days we didn’t have the same sort of understanding about it all that your education gives you these days. I think we had more fun finding out. These days I guess it’s expected to go much further, earlier.”

  “I hope I’m a bit stronger than that, Seoras. I enjoy the physical as much as anyone, maybe more but it’s on my terms. Ask Allinson.”

  There was just a hint of explanation about what had happened earlier in the evening and Macleod thought it best not to push it. But again that delight at Hope not having been engaged with another man flared. I’m such a daft fool.

  Macleod remembered summer on the island always producing long hours of daylight and tonight had been no exception. But now at two in the morning the darkness had finally arrived and he actually felt cool. Not cold but cool, as if something was wrong and he should feel warmer. Maybe it was his age or maybe just that his body should not be awake at this hour. He wondered if Hope felt the same. If so, she did not show it.

  The paths in the Lews Castle grounds snaked here and there but there was no sign of any person. The sounds of a sleeping port were there in the background but the occasional scurry could be heard, a nocturnal creature on the move. He remembered kids bringing alcohol up here when he was younger but maybe the hour was too late for that. It was also the Sabbath and in his day getting caught like that on a Sunday morning was not to be contemplated.