Time for a cuppa.
Before making for the kitchen he took in another lingering look. It was a process he always went through before he put the canvas to one side. He would get it out again in a week’s time and repeat his actions. He knew from speaking with other artists he was not alone in going through this critique period.
As he focussed on the blustery, rain leaden, clouds within the sky, the brushstrokes laid down in tones of purple, ultramarine blue and pink, it reminded him of a word he had heard his dad use — Dreich. That summed the spirit of the painting perfectly he thought.
Bringing that word to mind suddenly conjured up feelings from the recent turmoil within his life. For a few second’s images carouselled inside his head.
He shook himself and they cleared. He guessed it would be some time before they left him permanently — if they ever would. The main thing was that he and his dad had since reconciled their differences. And he had discovered new members of his family. He had travelled up to Scotland with his father to support him during his visit to Glasgow High Court for the plea and directions hearing for Billy Wallace and Rab Geddes, charged with murder-times-five, and the attempted murder of his dad.
That court visit had proven to be shorter than expected. The pair had refused to come out of their prison cells for the hearing and refused to enter a plea and in their absence the judge had set a trial date for the second week in January the following year.
Hunter mentally diaried the date, so that he could take time off to support his father again when he had to return to give evidence.
He had also spotted DCI Dawn Leggate at the court and taken her to one side to check on the prosecutions’ case. On this occasion she was far more amenable, telling him that the evidence against the pair was overwhelming. So much so that she was expecting the pair to enter a guilty plea at the last moment. She added that the Procurator Fiscal was requesting an indeterminate life sentence for both men: the likely hood was that they would die in prison.
After that they had gone on to Belshill, his father’s old home town, where he had been introduced to his dad’s cousins. It had been a weekend of celebrations resulting in very thick head’s for both of them. Since then he had witnessed a whole new mood change in his father’s demeanour and they had spent some very enjoyable sessions together, especially down at the gym.
The ringing telephone, back in the lounge, broke his reverie. He heard Beth answer it.
“Hunter it’s for you,” she shouted, walking towards him, holding out the handset. “It’s work.”
He held up his hands to her, indicating they were smeared with oil paint.
She switched it to speaker phone and turned it towards him.
“Hello.”
“DS Kerr?”
He recognised the voice of one of the duty group Inspectors. “Speaking.”
“Sorry to disturb you at home. I know it’s your long weekend off, but I’ve been asked to call you in. Some of my officers are at the scene of a derelict pub. A couple of builder’s there have found the remains of a body in the cellar.”