by V Clifford
Once she’d set the towels in each room she went down to the kitchen where Mand had made a pot of tea and was crouched down on the floor with a mug in one hand and Moll’s belly occupying the other. A tender sight that made Viv well up. Was it because the dog was so trusting? Had she lost sight so much of Mand that she only saw the bitter bits?
Mand said, ‘She’s a sweetie. I bet she’s missing her mummy.’
This had occurred to Viv, but hearing someone else saying it made it more real. Maybe the dog’s sickness was in her heart and not in her body. It was entirely possible.
‘I know it’s getting late but I bet you haven’t eaten. I could make pasta for supper.’ She opened the fridge, pulled out a block of parmesan and checked the sell-by date on it. It was fine. There was tagliatelle and a couple of tins of tomatoes. That would do. Sal had a vast selection of dried herbs, none of which Viv would have used had she not had company. She refilled the kettle and set it on the hotplate.
Mand smiled.
‘I’m a fast learner.’
‘I’ve no doubt you are, but it’s a first for you doing anything that I’d recommend.’
‘That’s bollocks. I’m happy to take advice.’
‘Yes, I’m sure that’s true, but not from me you’re not. But let’s not fight about it. I’m just glad to see you conserving energy.’
Viv hauled down a large pot from a hook above the Aga and searched for a grater.
Mand saw it first and held onto it. ‘Here, let me.’ She took the parmesan over to the table and grated it into a bowl. Viv chopped up a clove of garlic that she found in the fridge door and opened the tins of tomatoes. Their mum joined them in the kitchen.
‘Nice to see you two at work together.’
Viv and Mand looked at each other, then at their mum.
Viv said, ‘And your point is?’
‘Well, every time you come to me you’re at loggerheads. So all I’m saying is that it’s nice to see you doing something together peacefully. When you were young you were always protective of each other.’ She stared out of the window into a dense velvety blackness. ‘This is a lovely home. Private, secluded, safe.’
Viv was intrigued by her mum’s observations. Were those things her priorities now? It was true that Sal’s cottage was homely, but so was Viv’s flat. Not that her mum had visited it. She tried to recall the last time the three of them had stayed under the same roof and couldn’t think of a single time since their dad had died. Wow. This would be an interesting weekend.
Viv banked up the woodburning stove and they ate a passable dinner. Moll seemed brighter with company and had eaten a little bit of her food. She was also drinking water with the sachets from the vet. So far so good. After they had eaten they went into the conservatory and Viv drew the curtains to make it cosier. She shut down her laptop so that they couldn’t accuse her of ‘always working’, their most frequent war cry.
‘So, mum, how about you give us a clue as to what’s going on?’
Her mum stared at her, ‘However hard you try to wheedle it out of me, this is not my story to tell.’
‘Maybe not, but is it your secret?’
Her mum inclined her head as if conceding the point to Viv. ‘What I can say is that it all began a long time ago and it’s about time it was put to bed. When I’ve figured it out I’ll let you know. In the meantime tell Sal thanks for letting us stay in her beautiful home.’
While their mum was speaking, Mand stared at her feet.
Viv didn’t give up easily. ‘Don’t you think there’s some merit in getting help. For starters, Mand and I are fitter than you.’
Her mum swept her hand in the air, ‘You don’t know anything, Vivian.’
The ‘Vivian’ was not a good sign, only used on high days and holidays or if she was out of favour.
‘No matter what you think we are fitter than you.’
‘You think?’ Her mum set her mug on a side table, lay down on the floor and proceeded to do ten powerful push-ups without any sign of exertion.
Mand joined her mum on the floor and Viv shook her head but did the same, and the three women proceeded to do push-ups until each of them had had enough. Viv did manage a few more than she thought she would, but there was nothing like a bit of competition from a parent to spur her on. In the end they lay side by side breathing hard until their mum stood up and started doing star jumps.
‘Okay, okay, I think we get the picture. You’ve been practising, which is cheating.’
‘It’s not about practice, Vivian, it’s a way of life.’
‘I don’t remember you doing anything like that when we were growing up.’
‘No, you wouldn’t. You went to bed or I went to work.’ The slightest of smiles crept across her face as if a fond memory was awakened.
‘You want to fill us in on that job?’
Their mum’s face changed rapidly into a scowl. ‘You know exactly what I did.’
It was Mand’s turn to question. ‘No, we don’t.’ She stared at Viv for confirmation.
Viv said, ‘No, we don’t. So what exactly was it you did?’ If her mum had been an operative she’d be able to lie flawlessly to most people, but perhaps her family would prove to be an exception.
‘I worked as a secretary in the Civil Service. I was lucky. Women before me had to give up work when they had children and some before that had to give up work altogether when they got married. I got in just . . .’
‘So what exactly did you do as a secretary?’
There was the slightest of falters, ‘I did the most dull, menial typing and . . .’ Again her face changed as if another fond memory had been awakened. ‘I had a good boss.’
‘Ah, so who was that?’ She had to get some detail. Her mum certainly wasn’t working out the rota for the bin men.
‘Oh, I can’t remember his name now.’
Her first blatant lie.
‘Okay. But you must remember where you worked.’
‘Yes, yes. I worked in Government House at the east end of Princes Street.’
This sounded too vague, but Viv could easily find out.
‘Which department?’
‘You’re pushing your luck, lady. I think I’ll have an early night.’
Viv had been thinking the same thing since the push-ups. There was always tomorrow.
As their mum left the room, Mand gave Viv the thumbs up. ‘Well done. If she’s that uncomfortable talking about it she must have something to hide. Get your laptop booted, we have research to do.’
Viv hadn’t seen Mand this excited for ages. She opened the laptop and Googled ‘Government House Edinburgh’. The only thing close was a Governor’s House on Calton Hill, but nothing close to Government House. The Governor’s House had been part of the Old Calton Jail at the back of St Andrew’s House, which definitely was a Scottish Government building. If they kept staff records that went back twenty-five or thirty years there was no way they’d be digitised. Viv could foresee a visit to their archives. Research was such a wonderful cover, and she still had her ID cards for the press.
She glanced at Mand, who was chewing the inside of her cheek. ‘You know what? I bet if you worked there you’d call it something different to what the public called it . . . If I find anything, what department should I try?’
‘I don’t know. With all this cloak and dagger stuff why not just try intelligence.’ She snorted. ‘By the way before you came along I spent a lot of time with grannie, much more than you ever did.’
Viv paused her search, surprised to hear this. She’d imagined their childhoods with much the same rhythm, but obviously not. She turned back to the screen, but tapped her chin instead of the keys. If their mum had been attached to intelligence they would have used an innocuous name, but each one she tried came up blank. She’d definitely have to visit.
Mand said, ‘It’s pretty hard to believe that she was involved in anything . . . you know like espionage.’
Viv shrugged, ‘I can’t imag
ine her having enough time. I mean we never felt deprived of her company. She was never away, well not for long.’
Mand interrupted, ‘She did go away for a couple of trips that lasted . . . oh I don’t know maybe a week. We were farmed out to grannie or friends. I think one time you were at Guide camp.’
‘Guide camp? Shit! I’d well and truly buried that memory. I hated it. I cried to come home on the first night but they wouldn’t let me. Oh, and they thought that by telling us ghost stories that would make it better. Total nuts. Wonder what happened to them. Sisters, weren’t they?’
Mand grinned, ‘Yeah, but not the kind of sisters we are.’ She laughed. ‘Great euphemism.’
‘Oh my God, of course. They looked nothing like each other. Well, well, I missed that one.’
Mand said, ‘I’m tired. I think I’ll go snuggle up with James.’
‘Sure, I’ve got a couple of . . .’
Mand brushed away the details of her sister’s existence. ‘Sure, Viv. Sleep well.’
Once Mand had gone upstairs Viv emailed Sal to let her know that her house had now been inundated by the Fraser clan.
Chapter Nine
Saturday
When Viv appeared in the morning Mand and James were on the couch watching something on TV and their mum was sitting at the kitchen table with her hands wrapped round a mug of coffee.
She nodded to a pot on the Aga. ‘Plenty left.’ She pushed her chair back as if she was getting up to do it for Viv.
‘It’s fine. Sit where you are, I can get it myself. Would you like a top-up?’
Her mum put a hand over the top of her mug. ‘No thanks, I’m buzzing already.’
Viv had no idea what her mum had for breakfast these days, but was surprised by the strength of the coffee. Her mobile phone vibrated. She checked the caller ID. It was Mac.
‘Hi, Mac, what can I do for you?’
‘Just checking that you’re up for the race on Sunday?’
Viv had no recollection of agreeing to the race, but knew that was how Mac worked.
He said, ‘It’s for a good cause.’
‘How far is it?’
‘You can do 5K, 10K, or 13K. C’mon, it’ll be fun.’
‘Since when was running uphill fun?’
‘Ah, so you do remember. I’ll pick you up at nine. The start’s at nine-thirty.’
‘Where is it? You do know that I’m at Sal’s.’
‘Thought you might be. All the more reason to do the race; it’s across the Braes of Doune. Five-minute drive from Sal’s.’
‘What the hell? Nothing to lose. See you there at nine, no need to pick us up. Oh and by the way my mum and sister are here.’
‘Great. The more the merrier; they can come along to support us. There’ll be a catering tent for them to hang out in.’
‘Not sure that my mum’s in a hanging out sort of mood; she did twenty press-ups last night.’
‘Wow! Then she can join us on the run.’
Viv laughed, but thought it was always a possibility. ‘I’ll ask her.’
‘You serious?’
‘Yes. Why not? She and Mand are in better shape than I am at the moment.’
‘Excellent! Family outing. See you then.’
She walked out to the hallway and lowered her voice, ‘Wait, Mac, I’ve got a favour to ask.’
‘Sure. Shoot.’
‘How would I get access to staff records of St Andrew’s House?’
He hesitated, ‘Current or past?’
‘Past.’
‘How far back?’
‘Not sure. Say between twenty and thirty years ago.’
‘You think your mum was a spy then?’ He laughed. ‘I think they’re held in a storage facility. I can find out before you go off on a wild goose chase. Or worse, break through a firewall unnecessarily.’
‘You know me too well. If you get anything before tomorrow give me a call, otherwise see you there at nine.’
She went back into the kitchen where her mum was doing a crossword.
‘Keeping the old grey matter active, mum?’
‘Ssh. Damn! I almost had it. No wonder I enjoy living alone.’
Viv stuck a couple of slices of bread into the toaster but Mand, who’d come to fill up her coffee mug, retrieved them from the toaster, put them in a wire rack, then put it on the hotplate. ‘Saving energy, Viv. I’m guessing the toaster is there for emergencies, like when the Aga runs out of oil.’
‘Happy to learn the art of the Aga. I’ve never been able to get my head round it.’
‘Their mum said, ‘Wonderful big things. The heart of the home.’
Mand and Viv looked at each other, confused. Viv said, ‘Have you ever had an Aga?’
There mum said, ‘Not personally, but I’ve had to cook on one.’
‘And when was this?’
‘Curiosity killed the cat, Vivian.’
Mand shrugged. ‘I don’t remember anyone we know having one.’
‘No, you wouldn’t.’ Their mum never once lifted her head from the crossword.
This weekend might turn out to be one of the most informative times that they’d had as a family.
‘Did Dad know how to work one?’
She sat with her pencil poised. ‘I don’t think so. If only he was here you could ask him.’
This was the first time that Viv’s mum had sounded regretful about their dad’s death.
‘You must miss him, mum.’
‘I do. But regret is a big investment. It’s a good lesson, girls. Don’t live a life that will earn you regrets. There’s nothing to be done about them. Your dad and I had no regrets.’
This sounded more like a threat than a confession.
‘Now that dad isn’t around can you tell us what his job really was?’
She shook her head. ‘He did his duty and was very brave. That’s all you need to know.’
Like hell Viv thought, but she’d better tread carefully or she’d get nothing.
‘But what was his duty? We . . .’ she pointed at herself and then at Mand, ‘thought he was a policeman. That’s what we’d always been told.’
‘He was a policeman. A special policeman. Remind me to show you some photographs I’ve got.’
‘Where are they?’
Their mum had gone back to her crossword, but with an air of distraction said, ‘Oh upstairs. I didn’t like to leave them at home.’
Both Viv and Mand stood with eyes wide open. ‘So is now a good time?’
‘Have your toast and I’ll show you.’
Mand had turned the toast over before it incinerated. Viv tried not to show her excitement but it was tricky with Mand giving the thumbs up behind their mum’s back.
Viv was eager, but didn’t want to rush things, so she said, ‘Look, I’ll go into the village and get fresh supplies, then we’ll have food for the rest of the weekend and won’t have to pilfer from Sal’s larder.’
‘Sounds good,’ her mum said. ‘Could you get me a newspaper?’
‘Sure. The Times?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘Still reading about the old propaganda machine?’ Her mum ignored her. ‘What about you Mand, do you and James need anything specific?’
‘I think I brought enough to see him through, but if they have . . . och it’s fine if you’re buying fresh veg I can make stuff with that.’
She glanced at Moll who was on the sofa in the conservatory with her chin resting on the arm, staring out of the window. ‘You okay, Moll?’ The dog was off the sofa in a beat and by Viv’s side. Viv rubbed her ears and went in search of her lead. Unlike Sal she never took the dog for a walk without the lead on. Too nervous that Moll’d take off and she’d not get her back. The dog, clearly back to normal, spun round and round with excitement, so that Viv couldn’t get the lead on her. ‘Sit still.’ Made no difference. Eventually Viv stroked her back, plonked her rear end on the floor and looped the lead over her head. ‘Right, let’s go.’
Moll
trotted by her side as if being on a tether was normal to her. It was a crisp morning with blue sky and a thin layer of frost everywhere. The short walk to the village was charming. The lane flanked by specimen trees, a humpbacked bridge with the sound of the burn gurgling below it, the smell of organic matter mulching by the edges of gravel, everything contrary to her life in the city. She nodded to people she’d never met and replied when they bid her ‘Good morning’. A man in a thick lumberjack shirt was petting Moll when she came out of the post office, a shop that sold everything. It was a good morning.
The main street in Doune supplied what she needed so she returned laden with food and essentials, the dog trotting by her side. She took a deep breath and got an inclination of what it was that Sal loved about living there. Sal was addicted to it. The rhythm was gentle, people in less of a hurry, and most of life’s essentials could be found within a hundred paces of the house. What was not to like?
When she pushed open the door of the cottage, warmth and the smell of coffee made her imagine that maybe she could get used to country living. She’d always been averse to too much green. And maybe that was it – at this time of year the place was a lot less green. She dumped the bags on the kitchen table and began to unpack them. No sign of her mum, Mand or James. She heard water running upstairs so someone was in the shower. Note to self, don’t run the cold tap or they’ll get scalded. The fridge began to bulge with food, a much healthier sight than hers ever did at home. Eventually her mum appeared with the tapestry bag that she hadn’t allowed Viv to carry upstairs for her.
Viv was itching to see what was inside, but they couldn’t begin without Mand.
‘Amanda hasn’t come back yet?’
‘Don’t think so. There’s been no sign of her.’
‘She said she’d take James out, give him some fresh air and exercise to tire him out.’
‘Poor wee soul, he’s barely up.’
‘Oh, he’s been awake since five-thirty. He’ll need a rest.’
Viv flipped the switch on the kettle then remembered to use the Aga. Her mum noticed and said, ‘It’ll become second nature.’
