by Alex Gray
‘Kyle Kerrigan, you know absolutely nothing about this! And if you did, you wouldn’t talk to me like that!’ Julie stood up suddenly and lunged at the boy but, caught off-balance, she tripped and landed heavily against him.
It was an automatic reflex, Kyle realised afterwards. His hands flew to her arms and grasped them tightly, taking her away from him.
‘Ow! That hurt! You’re just as bad as all the rest of them, Kerrigan. Bloody wee ned!’ The girl wrenched free from his grasp and swung her bag at him, narrowly missing his right eye. Kyle recoiled but the dark expression on his face made Julie retreat down the steps, still yelling at him. Fists bunched by his sides, the boy watched as she crossed the square, clip-clopping on these silly high heels. Ach, she wasn’t worth bothering about, Kyle decided, his mouth turning up in disgust. Behind him he heard an exhalation of breath as someone came out of the bookshop, someone who’d obviously witnessed that little scene. Kyle moved aside, catching a glimpse of a tall woman who shot him a look of disapproval before walking down the steps. His face flaming now, the boy turned away, stumbling back into Borders and the sanctuary of the crowded bookshop.
But the woman was not the only one to have taken in the fracas between them; up above the classical pediment and the fluted pillars of the building, a CCTV device had its grey head turned on the very spot where the argument had taken place, Kyle’s mask of fury immortalised on camera for anyone who wanted to see.
CHAPTER 15
It was almost too easy. Of course he hadn’t expected to see her with the boy. But the way things had turned out had worked to his advantage.
‘Mind if I sit here?’ he asked, looking at all the tables around them in the cafe’s forecourt, deliberately adopting an air of exasperation.
The girl looked up, a mixture of doubt and surprise in her expression. A swift turn of her head to see the lad was nowhere in sight seemed to reassure her. ‘No problem,’ she told him, a hint of a smile softening her face. ‘It’s so crowded here today.’ She broke off and he grinned at her, pulling out the metal chair.
‘What’ll you have?’ A dark-haired waitress appeared, her tiny frilled apron tied tightly round the tiniest of miniskirts, long black-clad legs ending in clumpy shoes. A student waiting on tables for the holidays, he surmised, someone who would be here today and gone tomorrow, never remembering the man and girl sitting outside in the afternoon sunshine.
He gestured for the blonde to order first then, ‘Double espresso, please,’ he replied then, when the waitress had gone off, ‘My treat,’ he whispered conspiratorially. ‘I’ve just slipped away from the studios for an hour or so. Don’t tell.’ He placed a finger against his lips and winked at her.
‘Oh.’ Julie seemed taken aback. ‘I can’t let you-’
‘Least I can do since you let me sit at your table.’ He smiled at her. ‘You’re not keeping it for anyone?’
‘No.’ Julie hoped the warmth on her face and neck was not a huge big reddie. How uncool would that be? This guy was nice — a bit old, maybe — but nice. Tall and angular with a good head of thick fair hair, he reminded Julie of someone off the telly. He had a good voice, too, like he was maybe an actor or something. A frisson of excitement ran up her spine. That was probably it! Why else would a good-looking man like that be in Glasgow at this time of the day? Away from the studios, he’d said.
‘Enjoying the summer vacation?’ he asked, pulling a packet of Marlboros from his pocket, taking one and placing it between his lips. He had nice white teeth, Julie saw.
‘Sorry, how rude of me. Do you. .?’ The man offered the packet across the table and Julie took one without hesitation.
‘Thanks,’ she said, then bent forwards as he cupped a hand around the flame from his match, his fingers just brushing her own. As the nicotine rush left her lungs like a great sigh of relief, Julie sat back, crossed her legs and regarded this man in what she hoped was a sophisticated appraisal.
‘Yes, just doing a bit of shopping before I go back to uni,’ she lied, swinging her leg up and down. He smiled again and nodded, flicking ash from his cigarette and taking another drag, his eyes hazy and warm as the smoke drifted upwards.
‘One latte, one double espresso.’ The dark-haired waitress was there and gone in seconds, rushing to take orders from yet another table.
‘Cheers.’ The man held up his little coffee cup and bent his head to one side. ‘To all the pretty students who wish they were as lovely as you.’ He kept looking at Julie as he drank his coffee and this time she simply couldn’t control the blush that seemed to spread tingling right into the roots of her hair. Just then her mobile sounded and she dipped into her bag, lifting it out. But before she could do another thing, his hand had covered hers, enclosing the phone.
‘Switch it off,’ he said, another twinkling smile making his dimples deepen. ‘Don’t let’s spoil the moment. It won’t last, after all.’
Julie felt the warmth of his hand for just a moment, then it was gone. Obediently she pressed the red button and dropped the mobile back in her bag. Of course, it was bad manners to use phones in company. That was what Mary was always going on about. She’d call Sam back later. And she’d have something interesting to tell her, Julie thought, tossing her hair back and smiling conspiratorially at the man.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked suddenly. ‘No, don’t tell me, let me guess. Must be something special. No parents could have looked at such a baby and given her an ordinary name. Francesca, Susannah. . Angelica. Yes. That must be it: Angelica. Tell me I’m right,’ his voice pleaded even while his grin told her he was teasing.
Julie suppressed a giggle, shaking her head. Was he in films then? All these names were redolent of fame and this man looked as if he did indeed spend time with such female goddesses. Suddenly plain old Julie Donaldson seemed a bit of a let-down, so horribly dull.
‘Juliet,’ she replied. ‘Juliet Carr,’ she improvised swiftly, a silver BMW suddenly in her line of vision as it swept along Queen Street only yards from their table.
‘Well, Juliet Carr,’ he began, his tongue fondling the name as if it were something he could actually taste in his mouth, ‘how would you like to give up university and do something much more exciting?’
CHAPTER 16
‘Darling, I’ll get her. Just you relax.’
Ruth tried to let her body sink into the squashy cushions of the settee, her hands clasping over the place where Ashleigh had been. It was an automatic gesture, but now instead of the rounded bump she felt only a roll of post-baby fat. Tears of self-pity sprang to Ruth’s eyes. She’d had such a nice figure when they’d married and now it would be ages before she’d be her old slim self again. Closing her eyes, Ruth felt her whole body stiffen as Ashleigh’s cries became ever more distressed. Each time the baby woke, screaming, it was as if a reflex action occurred, galvanising Ruth into action, some instinct telling her to pick up the baby, shush her gently and see what she could do to placate the little scrap of humanity that had turned their world upside down. She’d fed and changed her less than half an hour ago, so what was wrong this time?
‘She’s tired, wee lamb,’ Eric announced, cradling their daughter as he brought her into the lounge.
His large hand looked enormous supporting her tiny head, Ruth thought. He was so strong; her strong tower, she’d called him just this morning.
‘Tell you what. Why don’t I take her for a ride in the car? She’ll go to sleep in her carrier and then I can put her down for the night. Good idea?’
Ruth nodded silently, a smile of pure gratitude crossing her lips. ‘What a pet you are. Thanks, love,’ she told him.
‘And get some rest. I don’t want to come home and find you’ve been doing the ironing or anything. Remember what the doctor said.’
‘Promise,’ she agreed and put her hand on his arm as he bent to brush her hair with his lips. ‘You’re so good to me, Eric. Thank God you’re here.’
‘Well,’ he cocked his head to one side, grinn
ing ruefully, ‘maybe God does work in mysterious ways after all. Could be he intends to have your husband at home just for a wee while.’
‘You should have put in for paternity leave,’ Ruth mumbled then her face split in an enormous yawn and she snuggled deeper into the corner of the settee, her head already lolling against the arm rest.
Eric Chalmers looked down at her for a moment then, as Ashleigh began to whimper once more, he placed his little daughter gently into the baby carrier and took her out of the room.
A ride round for half an hour might do the trick, he thought. It would also help to clear his own head for the meeting scheduled tomorrow. A risk assessment was not enough prior to suspension. This accusation of sexual assault was serious and merited an interview with the police in attendance. As Eric strapped the baby safely into the back seat, he thought about Julie. She was once a wee thing like that, and not so terribly long ago, either. What had gone wrong? He closed the car door as quietly as he could manage then, before turning the key in the ignition, Eric thought again about the pupil who had caused him so much heartache. How could she have done this to him after that glorious time they’d spent at SU camp?
It took only ten minutes before Ashleigh quietened down and Eric knew she would be sound asleep. So, go home now? That’s what he really should do, but as the car turned the roundabout at the foot of the hill he began to think about what lay back there for him: Ruth’s tired, patient face and days, weeks perhaps, of interminable emptiness, suspended from a job he loved. For the first time, Eric Chalmers knew a pang of loss and regret so strong that his jaw hardened and the mouth that had laughed with so many of his pupils became a thin, unsmiling line. What on earth was he going to do now? Then panic began to rise like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm him. What would happen to them if he lost his job? And in such circumstances that he’d never find another?
He needed time to think, to decide what he had to do. The Vet School was nearing on his left as the car crept back uphill, Dawsholm Park a little way beyond. It was a favourite place of theirs and he’d planned to take Ashleigh there in her pram one day. The road ahead blurred with sudden, self-pitying tears; if his worst imaginings became reality then everything he’d worked so hard for might be snatched away from him.
Kyle gave the tin can a vicious kick, sending it rattling along the pavement. Why the hell had he blurted out that stupid question to Julie? It had just caused a bigger fuss and he’d felt so self-conscious slinking away from the city after that. Hadn’t folk been looking at him as if he was some kind of yob? His toe found the can beside the scrubby verge and he lashed at it again, kicking it across the road where it clattered under a car. Hands in his pockets, Kyle trudged up the road, rows of brown tenement houses hemming him in on either side, cutting off the crepuscular blue of the sky. He’d been hours returning from the town, preferring to walk rather than take a bus. Being close to other people was something he just didn’t want right now. Hopefully no one would be at home and he could raid the fridge and sit and watch telly on his own for a bit. His belly grumbled again, reminding Kyle that he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime.
At last he came to his own close and turned in, shoving open the heavily scarred wooden door. The place was supposed to be secure but the outside gadget with all the wee buttons had been ripped out ages ago and nobody seemed to care if it was replaced or not. A couple of kids were scuttling about on their plastic scooters as he rounded the corner to head up the three flights of stone stairs. It was Tracey-Anne from the ground floor and her pal, Ellie, both four-going-on-fourteen with big eyes that had knowing looks far beyond their years.
‘Hiya Ki-yul,’ one of them called out in a sing-song voice. ‘Hiv ye been away with yer girlfriend?’ The pair of them broke into daft giggles.
‘Youse shouldnae be out this late. Where’s yer mammy?’ Kyle scolded, his words assuming their own dialect. Then seeing Tracey-Anne stick her tongue out at him he laughed and started up the stairs. The mammy would be down the boozer, like as not, and some older kid would be inside watching Big Brother instead of minding the weans.
Kyle fitted his key in the lock as quietly as he could. Reaching the sanctuary of his bedroom could be like a military operation if he wanted to avoid his da. The noise of the television told him immediately that someone was home. Creeping down the long, narrow hall, Kyle peeped into the darkened room and ducked back out immediately. Da was slumped in front of the screen, his back to the living-room door, watching football on Sky, a can of lager in one hand and the usual bottle of Bell’s on the floor by his side. With the sound turned up and the images flickering across the screen, old man Kerrigan hadn’t noticed a thing.
The boy moved like a cat as he slipped into the kitchen, opened the fridge and extracted an opened pack of ham, a jar of pickle and the remains of a pizza. He was thirsty, too, and there just might be a bottle of ginger lurking inside the larder. Yes! Grasping the bottle neck with two fingers, he held his food against his chest and tiptoed back up the corridor to his own room. The sound of his father shouting made him freeze for a second until he realised that someone on the telly had scored and the stream of four-letter words was merely the old man voicing his approval.
Kyle let out his breath and slipped into the bedroom that he was supposed to share with Tam. His older brother spent most of his nights with a lassie nowadays and Kyle welcomed the peace and quiet it gave him. He sat down on the unmade bed, smoothing a bit to make it more comfortable, then made a start on the cold pizza. The congealed cheese was rubbery in his mouth. Kyle didn’t care; it was better than nothing and nothing was what he’d had for most of the day. He ate swiftly, swigging from the ginger bottle to wash it all down, then gave a belch of satisfaction once everything was finished.
Replete, the boy lay back, arms tucked behind his head. God, he was tired! Kyle smiled; he should be safe from his da now that the old guy was well on the way to being bevvied. Well, at least he’d made it back and no one had seen him come in.
Had he known what lay ahead, Kyle Kerrigan would not have been congratulating himself on the prospect of being left all alone with nobody to say where he was and what he was doing that night.
CHAPTER 17
‘How did you find the time to escape from the case?’ Maggie asked as they settled into Lorimer’s ancient dark blue Lexus. The leather seats creaked as she stretched to buckle up her seat belt, then seemed to emit a small sigh as she sank back, stretching out her bare legs.
‘Done all we can do for now. There’s still a team of uniforms working the surrounding areas and night shift will call me if there are any major developments.’ There was a moment’s pause, each of them realising what sort of developments he had meant. ‘Think we can class this evening as work of a sort, though, don’t you?’ Lorimer tried to give her a grin that creased his eyes, making Maggie feel a familiar tingle. For two pins she’d have stayed home and gone to bed early; that look in her husband’s eyes told her he was thinking along similar lines.
‘Love you,’ he said, sliding a hand over her thigh then looked ahead of them as the big car swung into the road.
His wife caught his hand and gave it a squeeze in reply. Never mind, a night out at Solly and Rosie’s would be just fine. Bed, if not sleep, was still a delicious prospect some hours away.
Maggie gazed out of the window as the countryside sped past. Late August here in Scotland’s West Coast meant harvest time and following that long, dry summer the fields had become creamy with swathes of barley and oats, many having been baled into squat rolls and wrapped in aquamarine plastic. A hen pheasant erupted from the hedgerow as they drove by, a nervous wreck of a creature flapping mindlessly to the safety of adjoining pastureland.
‘Daft bird!’ Lorimer commented, an indulgent smile hovering upon his lips. It would’ve been a different story if he’d hit it, Maggie knew. He might be the tough Detective Chief Inspector who was used to reducing hardened criminals to tears but her husband was a sentimental soul when
it came to wildlife. Every flattened hedgehog by the roadside made him wince and Maggie had learned long since not to remark on roadkill if she could help it.
At last they were in the city and driving up from Woodlands Road towards the graceful curve of houses where the forensic pathologist lived with her fiancй. Lorimer eased the car into a nearby space then walked around to the passenger’s side to open the door for Maggie. She could feel his eyes on her slim legs as she swung them around on to the pavement. Then his hand was searching for hers as they made their way towards the front door. This almost felt like a night out, though she knew from previous experience that the conversation would inevitably turn to shop talk.
‘You made it!’ Rosie opened the door wide and gave Maggie a hug. ‘Wondered if His Nibs would be able to come up with all that’s been going on,’ she added. ‘Come on in. Solly’s just opening some stuff he bought in the KRK store. Nibbles with attitude,’ she added, rolling her eyes.
Maggie just laughed. Their men both enjoyed the delights of what had become known as Curry Valley, Glasgow’s legendary eastern cuisine, and the KRK store was well patronised by Asians who had made this part of Glasgow their home.
‘Something to drink?’
‘Just something soft,’ Lorimer replied. ‘I’m driving.’
‘Well, I’ll be joining you. Still on tons of medication,’ Rosie said, screwing her pretty nose up in disgust. ‘How about some lime juice and tonic? At least that way it’ll feel as if we might be drinking gin.’
‘Well, I’m happy to hit the harder stuff.’ Maggie grinned. ‘A proper G and T, thanks. Plenty of ice. It’s really warm tonight, isn’t it?’
