Skinner nodded to his office manager. ‘Yes, I’d better get on with it.’ He tossed aside the copy of the Saltire that he had been reading, landing it neatly on top of the pile on his coffee table. ‘That bloody traffic’s getting worse, you know. I’ve just been reading about how tough the recession is, but it seems that more people than ever are going to work in the morning. Do you find that?’
‘It’s hard to tell. The work on the new tram system’s having such an effect.’
The chief constable snorted. ‘Hah! One of the craziest decisions the City of Edinburgh ever made, in my private opinion, pouring incalculable amounts of money into a transportation system that was outmoded fifty years ago. I’m glad I pay my council tax in East Lothian.’ He stood up, behind his desk, and moved towards the informal seating. ‘Ask ACC Steele to come in first,’ he said. ‘I want five minutes with her before the rest join us.’
He was glancing at the Scotsman when he heard a soft knock on the half-opened door. ‘Mags,’ he exclaimed, as the newcomer stepped into his room. His eyebrows rose. ‘In uniform, this early in the morning?’
‘I’m going round the divisional HQs within the city this morning,’ Margaret Rose Steele explained, as she took a seat at the coffee table. ‘I was off for so long that some of them must have forgotten what I look like.’
‘Fat chance. You could have been off for longer, you know. You were entitled to more maternity leave than you took, and the job would have waited for you. There’s no overtime at our level, you know.’
‘How about job-sharing?’ For the merest instant, a hint of alarm showed in his eyes. She laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I’m still living in the real world. Bob, I came back to work this early because I had to. My illness, losing Stevie, having the baby: if I’d stayed away any longer I might have forgotten who I was before it all happened, and who I still am. I’m a police officer, with ambitions that I want to fulfil and a command level job has been one of them for a long time.’
‘And have you settled in? That’s what I wanted to ask you. Is everything OK? Do you have all the support you need?’
The ACC nodded. ‘Everything’s fine. You’ve been great, Brian Mackie’s been great, David Mackenzie’s the picture of efficiency.’
‘How about domestically? Is there any way we can help there?’
‘Again, I’m handling it fine. My sister’s given up any thought of going back to Australia. She’s living with me permanently, working from home and looking after Stephanie. I go home at lunchtime whenever I can, and on the odd occasion that Bet has a presentation, or a meeting, I bring the baby into the office. That’s all the domestic life I want for the moment. I’m not ready for socialising. . although I did say I’d look in on the Central Division dance on Friday, if only for half an hour or so. Are you and Aileen going?’
Skinner hesitated for a moment. ‘I am,’ he began, ‘but unaccompanied. It might come with the territory for me, but not for my wife. The fact is, Mags, given the size of our force, there are a hell of a lot of social functions through the year. My predecessor regarded it as his duty to go to each and every one, and somehow the organisers got the idea that an invitation was expected. They also came to expect him to put his hand in his pocket for a round of drinks. Cost him several thousand over the years. Maybe you’d put the word around all the divisions, discreetly, mind, that the new incumbent will not take it out on any organisers who leave him off the guest list, and that any who don’t can expect him to turn up in uniform, and loom over the proceedings like a rain cloud. If I want to go to an event I’ll buy a ticket or chip into the kitty like everybody else.’
‘Will do. Does that go for Brian and me too?’
‘Of course, if that’s how you want to play it. I’m not thinking of myself alone here, you understand. I’m as sociable as the next guy, but given Aileen’s position, there’s always going to be someone at these dos who has a few drinks and tries to talk politics. Sure, she could see them off, but why the hell should she have to?’
‘Why indeed?’ Maggie agreed. She smiled. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this, Bob, but she’s really good for you.’
‘I don’t mind a bit, ’cos you’re right. She found my soft centre right away. Third time lucky, no mistake. I was devastated when Myra died, but there was angst there amidst the bliss. Sarah and me? Sure, we’d the hots for each other at the start, plus at that point in our lives we each needed someone, but it was never quite right. We were very different personalities, and there was a culture clash there from the start. But at least we liked each other enough to part amicably. With Aileen, though. . sometimes I just can’t believe I’m this happy.’
‘Then long may it last.’
Bob’s mouth fell open. ‘Aw, Jesus,’ he exclaimed, ‘listen to me. What a clown! You’re the last person who should be hearing this.’
‘No,’ she said, firmly, ‘I’m the very person, because I’ve had the same experience. I’ve lost Stevie, yes, but do you think that makes me wish I’d never met him? The opposite: it makes me all the happier that I did. The truth, Bob, is that you and Aileen are both going to die, and barring accidents. . literally. . one of you is going to die before the other. You’re in the same boat as Stevie and me, as every other lifetime partners on the planet, and I’m here to tell you to grab every good moment you can.’
He threw his head back. ‘I’ve never thought of it that way, you know,’ he sighed. ‘You’re right, of course. We are on the same journey.’ He looked at her. ‘You’ve got an extra passenger too, the wee one, wee Stephanie.’
‘So. .?’
‘Hey, I’ve already got four of those, even if one of them is grown up, and one’s adopted.’
‘But Aileen hasn’t.’
‘She’s got her career.’
‘So have I.’
‘Kids aren’t on her agenda.’
‘They weren’t on mine either, as you know very well. Maybe I should bring Stephanie out to see you at the weekend, and you should ask Aileen again after that.’
He shook his head, smiling. ‘Wonders of the world, Maggie Rose Steele, advocate for motherhood. You do that, Mags; you and your sister come for lunch on Sunday, about one o’clock. Bring wee Goldilocks and watch us trying to keep our three bears in check.’
The chief constable rose from his chair, stepped across to his desk, and pressed a button, his signal to Gerry Crossley that he was ready for the other participants in his routine morning meeting. After a few minutes they filed in, led by Brian Mackie, the tall, bald, deputy chief. He was followed by the command corridor adjutant, Superintendent David Mackenzie, his uniform immaculate, as it always was, and by the massive, dark-haired Mario McGuire, jacketless, wearing a pale blue shirt and black cords.
‘Should we turn down the heating?’ Skinner asked him.
‘Early morning call,’ the head of CID replied, an explanation that was understood immediately.
‘Ah, you got dressed in the dark. Man, you look frozen.’
‘To the marrow, Chief. I’ll tell you about it in a minute.’
The group joined Steele at the chief constable’s meeting table, while Skinner pulled his leather swivel chair from behind his desk and rolled it across the floor. ‘Morning, all,’ he began. ‘Let’s go through the day. ACC Steele is on a tour of the city, she tells me. Mags, do the divisional commanders know you’re coming?’
‘Yes, although I haven’t tied myself down to a specific time with each of them.’
‘Fair enough, since it’s your first visit in your new post, but I’d suggest that as a general rule you’re a bit less courteous than that. Everywhere you go today you’ll see tidy desks and full out-trays. That’s fine, but is it the norm? Remember when I was deputy and I used to drop in occasionally, just to say “hello”?’
‘Of course.’
‘Can you ever remember me calling you to tell you that I was coming and to put the kettle on?’
‘Now you mention it, no.’