Wounded Knights

Home > Other > Wounded Knights > Page 8
Wounded Knights Page 8

by V Clifford


  ‘She’s proud. I think it’s difficult for her to accept your hospitality. But even some juice and toast would be nice for Lisa.’

  Viv rummaged about in the larder and found a bottle of cordial. ‘You think this will do?’ She handed it to Mac.

  ‘Looks fine. Not sure kids these days drink anything that isn’t fizzy but it’s worth a try.’

  Viv pottered about making hot buttered toast, a pot of tea, and juice for Lisa. Then took it upstairs. She tapped on the bedroom door and the woman said, ‘Come in.’ She was still sitting on the bed with her coat on and the two children huddled next to her. Her bloodied face was streaked with tear tracks.

  ‘I’ve brought you some tea and toast. I’ll just leave it over here.’ She laid it on top of the chest of drawers. ‘Is there anything I can do? DCI Marconi could have your husband . . .’

  The woman shook her head. ‘Tea’s fine, thanks.’

  Viv went back to the kitchen. ‘I don’t think she will report him. I was about to suggest that you could have him picked up but she wasn’t happy about it.’

  ‘Maybe by the morning or when she gets to her sister’s. When the sister sees that face she’ll probably persuade her to do something. Let’s hope anyway. Look, I’ll leave you all to it but if you need anything you know where to get me.’

  He left, closing the door silently behind him. Viv immediately felt desolate, but instead of going after him, she gave herself a talking-to. ‘Do something practical.’ She began by going round all the windows and doors checking that they were locked, which they were since she had already been through this routine the night before.

  She flicked the TV on and stood staring at the screen. She flicked if off again. Although she longed for another voice in the room it wasn’t just any voice. It had to be Sal’s. She planted herself on the couch and glanced round at Sal’s lovely things. Paintings of local landscapes, photographs of Mollie, nothing cluttered but not minimalist either. Sal was good at creating comfort zones. Even her tiny office upstairs was a soothing space. It struck Viv that she’d have to go through that office. In fact why hadn’t the NTF been to claim her desktop? Was that an oversight or were they hoping that Viv would access it first? No point in disappointing anyone so she let Mollie out into the garden before they both took the stairs to the study.

  There was a dog bed beneath the desk and Mollie was in it before Viv needed to ask. Sal was a clever woman and Viv wondered how long it would take her to find a way into her computer files. She thought of all the people and things that mattered to Sal. In the end a combination of names was the answer. She heard the door to the spare room open and close and the bathroom door do the same. Relieved that they were making use of what they needed she turned her attention back to the screen and began a search for anything that might help identify why Sal’s shooter had gone to such extremes.

  There were plenty of unopened emails in her personal account but not many in her NTF inbox. Viv was keen to find the correspondence that Sal had had with FBI before her trip. Before she’d been ‘invited’ to have a sabbatical there had to be conversations that led to the invitation. There had to be explanations of what they thought she could gain or what they would gain if she accepted. It took much longer than she thought it would but she did find them. Encrypted mail was still accessible if you knew how. Once she’d found a way in there was lots to read and by the time she had finished she could hardly keep her eyes open. She’d learned to keep blinking while reading from a screen but there was no substitute for a break. She leaned back on the chair and stretched her arms above her head, then cracked her neck from side to side. God she felt stiff and unfit. She made a note to self to begin a new regime tomorrow.

  She switched everything off and padded up the passage to the room where she and Mollie had been sleeping. There wasn’t a peep from the other spare room.

  Chapter Ten

  Viv woke when Mollie jumped off the bed and began to sniff at the bedroom door. The bathroom door in the passage closed and Viv sat bolt upright until she remembered that she had guests. She glanced at the clock. It was 6.30 and still pitch dark outside. She got out of bed and pulled on a big jersey and thick socks and padded down stairs. Mollie went to sniff at the other bedroom door but came when Viv beckoned her. It was too early to go out and too early for breakfast. Too early for anything. Who actually wakes at this ungodly hour? If she was in Edinburgh she’d see headlights and hear traffic noise to remind her that there were lots of people awake at this time of day. The world began its prep long before she ever contemplated throwing back the duvet, but in the countryside the evidence was harder to come by. That said when she pulled back the curtains in the conservatory she saw a spinning orange light moving slowly across the horizon, a sign that a local farmer’s day was well under way. Out of habit she put the kettle on and rummaged around in the fridge. She pulled out things that she thought they’d need for breakfast then she laid the table. The baby cried. There was something reassuring about hearing it since it hadn’t made a squeak since they’d picked them up. A few minutes later Lisa appeared with her skin looking all shiny and wet hair pushed back off her face. So much beauty in one so young.

  Viv said, ‘Well good morning Lisa. Did you sleep in that new bedroom?’

  Lisa nodded. ‘Mummy said I’ve to come and help you.’

  ‘Okay. How about having a look in that cupboard? Bring out anything that you’d like for breakfast or maybe something that your Mummy would like?’

  Lisa walked to the cupboard and stood staring up at the shelves.

  ‘If there’s anything you can’t reach you can pull a chair over and stand on it or ask me and I’ll reach it for you.’

  Lisa stretched up and brought down a box of porridge oats and handed it to Viv. ‘I think that’s what we have.’

  ‘Do you think Mummy will have that too?’

  She nodded. ‘Mostly she eats what we leave.’

  Just then her mum appeared holding the baby, looking a whole lot better than she had the night before. Not so much blood but bruising and a gash that definitely would need a stitch or two. ‘I hope you don’t mind but my sister is on her way round to pick us up.’

  Viv felt a stab of disappointment. ‘Oh, okay. Will you have breakfast?’

  The woman hesitated and glanced at the table with its place mats and knives and spoons laid out. She said, ‘A cup of tea or coffee would be lovely as long as it’s no bother.’

  The kettle was already boiling on the Aga and Viv whipped it off and put teabags into the pot and filled it. ‘What will Lisa have?’ She said to the little girl who was already sitting at the table.

  ‘She likes milky tea.’

  Viv said, ‘I’ve got porridge if you’d like some. I was going to make it for myself.’

  Lisa said, ‘Yes please.’

  Her mum said, ‘Well, as long as it’s not a bother.’

  ‘No bother at all.’ And Viv set about making a pot of porridge as well. As she stirred she smiled at the thought that this was about as domestic as she got.

  They sat down to the porridge and about half way through Mollie began to bark. A bark that indicated a stranger.

  ‘That’ll be Joan.’ The woman rose, and with the baby’s head resting on her shoulder she went to the door. ‘Is it all right if I invite her in?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll top up the teapot.’

  Viv thought she recognised Joan and wondered if she’d been at Sal’s memorial service or if she’d just seen her passing in the street. Viv stepped forward and shook her hand. ‘Viv Fraser. Come and have a cup of tea.’

  Joan wasn’t for niceties and said, ‘No thanks I’ll skip tea if you don’t mind. I need to get that face seen to. I didn’t bring my bag. We’ll have to do it at the house.’

  Fear registered on the woman’s face, but her sister said, ‘Dinnae worry. I heard in the shop this morning, he got picked up on his way home. Drunk driving. He’ll lose his job now. Naebody wants a gamekeeper that cannae
drive. He was the worse fur wear.’

  ‘What do you mean? The worse fur wear.’

  ‘He’d been shouting his mouth off in the pub about you and yer backchat. I think a couple of the boys got him sorted.’

  Viv smiled at the notion of him being ‘sorted’ in the Scots way. Was there such a thing as a Doune kiss?

  The mother walked round the table, laid her hand on Lisa’s head and stroked her. ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘In the cells in Stirling. He’ll no be driving anywhere fur the time bein’.’

  Viv wondered if Mac had put out a call. She’d find out later.

  ‘The first place he’ll come is to yours.’

  ‘Aye and ye ken what reception he’ll get if he does.’ Joan suddenly looked around the kitchen. ‘Nice job. Ma Tam worked on the electrics. Maybe it’s better if ye stay here for now? I can go an get my bag and fix that face o’ yours.’

  Viv watched as conflict flitted over the face of the woman with the baby in her arms still stroking her daughter’s head.

  ‘It’s not a problem for you to stay here,’ Viv said.

  The woman shook her head, ‘No. We’ll have to face the music sometime. Might as well be sooner rather than later. I’ll get our coats and we’ll come with you Joan.’

  Within ten minutes Viv was standing alone in the kitchen facing the same desolate feeling she’d had when Mac left the night before. The only person who might fill the space was Sal and that would never happen again. She swiped her cheeks to keep tears at bay, there was too much to do to keep giving in to them.

  Her phone rang. She said, ‘Hi, they’ve just left. Did you put out a call?’ She smiled when he said yes. Mac was such an honourable person. Where had he got such a strong moral compass? She’d done everything possible to skew the one her parents had drummed into her but not Mac. He stayed on the right side of the track.

  ‘Why don’t you come to Edinburgh? We could take a look at Sholto’s friend’s flat. It’ll keep you occupied.’

  She glanced round at Moll, who lay with her snout sitting on the edge of her bed, ears pricked at the very mention of action. ‘Not sure that I want to work for a toff. Besides Mollie wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘You do realise that Brian was hoping to have her?’

  ‘No. I had no idea. Why wouldn’t he say something?’

  ‘You’re the boss, or at least the boss’s partner, which amounts to the same thing in his world.’

  “Shit! Now I really don’t know what to do.’ As if sensing tension the dog walked over to her and rubbed herself round her legs. Viv stroked her ears. Soothed by their sensation, ‘I’ll ring Brian and ask him what he thinks. I’d love her with me but whatever happens it has to be for the dog and not me.’

  ‘Good call. But I’ll believe it when I see it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘People have dogs for their own comfort, for emotional support, for exercise, for whatever and they’ll say it’s for the dog’s benefit but it isn’t.’

  At some level she knew he was right. ‘I’ll ring you back.’

  As soon as she’d cut her call to Mac she found Brian’s number and rang him; it went to voicemail. ‘Damn.’

  She went back upstairs and stripped the bed that the guests had slept in. She took the one hand towel that they had used and stuck it all in the washing machine. Just as she was about to put it on the doorbell rang. Mollie jumped, barked and circled. Her excitement was clear so Viv wasn’t surprised to see Brian on the doorstep. ‘Hi, I missed your call but was over in the walled garden.’ He gestured with his arm. ‘Quicker to walk down than . . . well is there something I can help with?’

  ‘I was wondering if you might look after Moll?’

  His face said everything that she needed to know and when Brian patted the side of his thigh the dog bolted to his side and sat at his heel.

  ‘Impressive. You might have to give me a few lessons.’

  ‘Oh, it’s easy. Be kind to them and you’ll never have a more loyal friend.’

  Viv’s eyes welled up. She turned away. ‘I’ll get you her lead and food.’

  ‘No need. I’ve got everything at the lodge. She’ll be fine. Won’t you, girl?’ He rubbed her head and Viv had to cough to cover the sob rising in her throat. ‘It’ll just be for one night.’

  ‘Aye. No problem. As long as you like.’ He turned to walk away but stopped. ‘By the way. It’s not my business but have you had a look at the sanctuary?’

  She had no idea what he meant, ‘No, what is the sanctuary?’

  ‘Follow me.’ He walked round the side of the house and through the gate into the back garden. There was a high hedge at the far end of the garden which Brian disappeared through. On the other side a steep slope led to the river but about a third of the way down it a small hexagonal structure sat on a platform with decking surrounding it.

  ‘The sanctuary. Sal, Dr Chapman, wanted it built when she was in the USA. She said you’d need a room of your own.’

  She swallowed and swallowed to keep the lump down. ‘Did you build it?’

  He nodded. His pride suppressed but still evident. He dug into his pocket and handed her a key.

  ‘I had no idea there was even space to do this.’

  ‘It was easy enough to build the platform. It’s got a good strong steel base. I put the decking over it so that it’ll weather and become part of the landscape.’

  ‘It’s beautiful. It looks like something out of Harry Potter.’

  He laughed. ‘When she asked me to do it she said to think of Sherlock Holmes or Harry Potter. So I’ve got that bit right. Wait ‘til you see inside.’

  He pushed the door open. ‘I was finishing the electrics earlier.’

  ‘Wow. It has power?’

  ‘Sure, she said you’d want to work here.’

  She stepped inside. The smell of cedar filled her nostrils. Two of its six sides were plate glass windows with benches that faced down stream through a wooded glade. Clever, because there was still the big sky view that she needed. He’d built in a desk onto two walls with shelves above it.

  ‘She said you’d have books and your computers.’

  ‘It’s fabulous. A perfect place for anyone to work.’

  ‘Not just anyone. Sal said . . .’

  She turned away and rubbed her hands over her face. He seemed to understand and didn’t continue.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it then. Come Moll.’

  As he headed out and back up the slope she said, ‘It’ll definitely just be the one night.’ She dug her hands into her pockets, her words more defensive than she meant them to be. ‘I’ll ring you when I’m on my way back.’ She stood and pressed a fist to her chest as he and Mollie trotted together up into the front garden and through the gate, the dog inches from Brian’s leg and staring up at him the whole way. That’s what devotion looked like.

  She glanced round the room. It was perfect. This was also what devotion looked like. She ran her hand across the desk. Could she work here now . . . ? She had to get to Edinburgh so she locked up and retreated to the cottage. Sal had had plans. Plans that Viv hadn’t been party to. She felt ungrateful and frustrated that she had so badly misread the signs. She shoved her laptop into her rucksack and tossed it into the Rav. Fifty minutes would see her on the outskirts of Edinburgh and at Fettes within the hour. As Arthur’s Seat came into view her shoulders dropped – she was almost home.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mac ran down the front steps of Fettes and met her as she pulled her rucksack from the front seat.

  ‘Hi, I’ve got a lightish load today and thought I’d come with you to see what secrets the flat has to share.’

  ‘Yeah sure. You just want to keep an eye on me. Trust me Mac. I’m a doctor.’

  ‘But you’re a fragile doctor, so why don’t we just take your car?’

  She threw her sack back into the car and he jumped into the passenger seat. She glanced over at him. ‘You don’t need to worry about
me. I’ve had shit happen a few times in my life and know I’ll survive.’

  ‘I know, but life isn’t only about survival - it’s about being kind and making it better for people that you care about, so why don’t you cut me some slack and let me help you?’ He signed inverted commas when he mentioned the h-word.

  She wasn’t the most likely person to accept help. It felt weak or at the very least needy. It was a way of letting people in, and a way of giving people ammunition that they could use against her.

  She started up the Rav and said, ‘What’s the address?’

  ‘Calton Terrace Mews. Number 313. Auspicious or what?’

  She frowned. ‘What, you going all superstitious on me? Nice address, though. Do you know it?’

  ‘Nope. Not ever been there.’

  ‘One of Edinburgh’s hidden gems. Ultimate des res.’ She glanced at him. He was definitely one of life’s good guys. Could she learn to trust him? Properly trust him?

  He said, ‘What are we waiting for then?’

  They drove east toward Inverleith Road, then made a right up into Canonmills and on to Broughton Street where they got snarled up in road works. Another ten minutes and they were pulling into the mews.

  Mac whistled. ‘I see what you mean. This is pretty fab.’

  ‘By the way I’m not convinced I want to work for this guy.’

  ‘Call it a convenient distraction with some cash attached.’

  ‘He hasn’t got back to me to agree my terms yet.’

  ‘Terms have never stopped you before. Come on. Let’s have a nosey.’

  She shook her head. ‘Incorrigible. That’s what you are. If I do this we’ve got to do something about that wife beater.’

  ‘What, you think he isn’t getting country justice?’

  ‘Whatever he’s getting it won’t be the life of fear that she and the kids now have ahead of them. She’ll never know a relaxed day or night and God knows what wee Lisa will do with those images. Bastard.’

  He squeezed her arm. ‘Having access to the estate might be useful.’

 

‹ Prev