“I don’t think it silly,” said Hamish. “Time she grew up.”
Mrs Trask finished the last of her linguine and then stood up. “I am leaving. Come along, Jenny.”
“No,” said Jenny stubbornly.
“I shall see you later, young miss, and talk some sense into your head.”
She walked out, without, Hamish noticed gloomily, paying the bill.
Priscilla came up to their table. “Mind if we join you?”
Hamish looked up at her with relief in his eyes. “Not at all.”
“So you’re the bobby that solved the case,” said Jamie.
“Aye, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jenny, however, burst into speech, about how unfair it all was that her mother would not let her take a law degree. Hamish sat in stony silence, Priscilla looked preoccupied, so good-natured Jamie turned a friendly ear to Jenny’s complaints and soon they were talking like old friends.
As coffee was about to be served, Hamish said abruptly, “I’m tired. I think I’ll go home.”
“I’ll walk along with you. I want to tell you something,” said Priscilla. “Be back in a minute, Jamie.”
They went outside and walked in silence along to the police station. “Coffee here?” suggested Hamish. “You havenae told me yet what it wass you wanted tae talk to me about.”
“Yes, all right,” said Priscilla, following him in. “I didn’t want to say anything in particular, Hamish. But I did hear what that horrible Trask woman was saying about you being an amateur and thought you might need soothing. Besides, you left Jamie with the bill that Mrs Trask did not pay – ”
“So I did,” said Hamish with a slow smile. “I didn’t think of that. Towser, get your paws off Priscilla.”
“Leave the dog alone,” said Priscilla. “He doesn’t bother me.”
Hamish made two mugs of coffee and then sat down.
He told her all about the case and then about his promotion to sergeant and ended with, “That Trask woman did hurt. She was right, you know. I could have made a terrible mistake. A rank amateur, that’s me.”
“You’ve always relied on your intuition before, Hamish. You’re to be congratulated.”
“Well, my intuition’s not doing me much good at the moment,” he said, studying her. “Why were you so mad at me?”
Priscilla opened her mouth to lie, to say it was because she had been wrought up after the row with her father, but she found herself saying, “I saw Jenny kissing you.”
“Oh, thon. Well, Priscilla, she wass kissing me, I wasnae kissing her.”
“Silly of me. But you really do encourage that sort of weak female.”
He smiled into her eyes. “I’d rather be kissing a strong one.”
He leaned towards her. Priscilla closed her eyes. The kitchen was warm and cosy with the stove crackling and the smell of coffee.
And then there was a hammering at the door.
“Damn. That’s probably Jenny and Jamie,” said Hamish. “Wait here. I’ll get rid of them.”
He opened the door. A policeman stood there, a very clean, neat, precise-looking policeman with light eyes, a thin narrow mouth and a very pointed nose.
He removed his cap, revealing short greased hair. “Constable Willie Lamont,” he said. “My stuff’s in the car. Will I bring it in, sir?”
“What stuff?” said Hamish in dismay.
“I am moving in, Sergeant Macbeth. I am your new constable.”
“It’s all right,” said Priscilla with a rueful laugh. “I’m going. Can I borrow your car, Hamish? I’ll send one of the hotel staff back with it.”
“Not the police car!” said Willie Lamont.
“Yes, the police car,” retorted Hamish crossly.
“Civilians are not allowed to drive police vehicles at any time,” said Willie primly. “In the rule book, page nine, paragraph five, it says – ”
“Take the car, Priscilla,” ordered Hamish.
“Don’t worry. Jamie’s probably looking for me.”
Priscilla went out into the twilight. Poor Hamish! What an awful copper he’d got saddled with. Probably Blair’s choice, she thought, not knowing it was Daviot’s.
Mrs Wellington, the minister’s wife, drove up and stopped beside Priscilla. “Can I give you a lift?” she asked.
Priscilla hesitated. Jamie’s Jaguar was still parked outside the restaurant, but she did not feel like going back to join him. Besides, he appeared delighted with Jenny.
“Thanks, Mrs Wellington,” she said, climbing into the battered station wagon.
♦
Inside the restaurant, Jamie and Jenny were down to the end of their second bottle of wine. He was really deliciously handsome, thought Jenny, and they had so much in common.
“What about a brandy for the road?” asked Jamie.
Jenny smiled. “I’d love that. Do you know, I just realized one marvellous thing. I get money from a family trust and Mummy can’t stop that, so I can take my law exams.”
“Forget about the brandy,” said Jamie. “This calls for champagne!”
Jenny giggled. He was really quite divine. And then a nasty voice in her head reminded her that Brian Mulligan had seemed really divine and then Matthew Cowper. She mentally jumped on that voice. Jamie was really wonderful. So strong, so masterful.
She wondered what it would be like to be a captain’s wife.