Letting his wife leave her mother’s bedside, Lorimer shifted closer to the old lady sleeping so peacefully in her hospital bed. Suddenly his thoughts turned to the visitor she’d had the other day, Joseph Alexander Flynn. He’d have to do something for the lad. He’d wanted Lorimer to act as a referee for a job he was applying for. How had that visit gone? he wondered. Flynn was a wee character, right enough. The thought of the youngster made him smile again. Mrs Finlay had taken him under her wing, her own brand of plain talking suiting the street kid. And they’d shared a similar sense of humour, Lorimer thought.
But this was silly, he scolded himself. Why was he thinking of the old lady in the past tense as if she was already lost to them? With a pang, the senior detective realised that this was exactly how it felt. Even if she survived this stroke and its aftermath, Lorimer knew he’d miss the woman she had been. Her usual bustling manner and cheery voice were gone and in their place was this old lady, a shrunken version of the person he’d grown so fond of since he’d first met her. Old age, decay and death: hadn’t he seen them all in his line of work? And shouldn’t he be inured to what was, after all, inevitable?
The bell sounded to signal the end of visiting just as Maggie appeared.
‘She’s still asleep?’ her voice was raw with disappointment. For a moment Maggie seemed to hesitate, then she bent down to drop the gentlest of kisses on her mum’s cheek and drew the cover nearer to her chin, a comforting gesture that a mother might make for her child, Lorimer realised, biting his lip.
He clasped his wife’s hand as they left the ward, neither of them speaking for a moment as the crowds surged towards the bank of lifts.
‘Let’s walk,’ he suggested, heading for the stairs.
Neither of them spoke as they left the hospital and it was only as the Lexus swung out of the main gate that Maggie looked at him. There were unshed tears in her eyes. Lorimer squeezed his wife’s hand in a gesture of solidarity. He understood what she was feeling. Didn’t he have the same hollowness inside? That fear of losing the person who was their only remaining parent.
Later, when he was certain that Maggie was asleep, Lorimer slipped out of bed and crept downstairs to the space that doubled as dining room and study. Despite the information they’d had from the medical staff, he wanted to know a bit more and so for almost an hour the detective trawled the Internet, scrolling down the various sites on the subject of strokes and stroke victims. As he hunched over the small screen of Maggie’s laptop, Lorimer’s mouth tightened. It all made pretty grim reading. And if he was correct in his assessment of his mother-in-law’s condition, the future looked fairly bleak. If her heart were to survive this sudden onslaught, she’d be dependent on other people for the rest of her days. It would change everything for them.
A thought of Colin Ray’s haggard face came to him then. He’d been through it with Grace, hadn’t he? And it was something that so many of his older colleagues had had to endure. Though, if he was honest with himself, the care of a sick or elderly relative usually fell to the woman in a partnership. How would Maggie cope? Could she contemplate giving up her teaching job? Her career was more than just a job, though, he knew. Teaching English was something that defined Maggie Lorimer and to give it up before she’d even reached her fortieth birthday would be a huge blow. Was there some kind of sabbatical she might be able to take? Lorimer sat back suddenly, rubbing a hand across his eyes. What was he thinking of? Making even mental decisions like that for his wife was just not fair. Surely they could afford to hire a professional person of some sort to come in and look after the old lady if she was to be consigned to their care?
He imagined a stranger here in his own home tending to the stroke patient in a wheelchair. They’d need to make loads of changes. Install some sort of a stairlift for a start or add an extension to the downstairs loo. His eyes searched the familiar rooms of his home, seeking practical solutions to the potential problems that could lie ahead. The garden was large and rambling; no problem in adding another room on at the kitchen side and the plumbing was maybe easier there anyway. But how were they to cope with builders about the place at the same time as a sick old lady was living with them? And he couldn’t take time off, not now when he’d been appointed as a review officer to this case in Greenock.
As the practical difficulties threatened to overwhelm him, Lorimer found his fingers tapping the relevant keys to close down the screen. Nobody had told them that Mrs Finlay was being discharged. Maybe she’d be in the Southern General for a good while yet, giving them time to prepare for her coming home to them.
A yawn caught him unawares, making his eyes water. He needed to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be another demanding day at work and he would simply have to put other thoughts on hold.
As he climbed the stairs, Lorimer paused to look out of the window on the landing. Down on his street some lights were still on. Were some of his neighbours awake, worrying and wondering about their own families? He was no different from any of them, was he? Life threw such things at you and you simply had to cope as best as you could.
Neither of them had spoken about Maggie’s mum before they’d left for work. Instead the radio had filled the silence between them with the morning’s news bulletin and the road report. Only Chancer had miaowed for his breakfast, a familiar yowl that had made them both smile. Animals and small children were immune from the problems of the grown-up world, demanding instead attention to the basics of life. As he’d passed the cat on his way out, Lorimer had bent to stroke the orange fur, experiencing a pang of gratitude as the animal purred loudly and rubbed himself on his trouser leg.
That small incident came to mind as he stood at the entrance of the flats he’d come to visit. A large white cat was regarding him from a downstairs window, a haughty expression in its green eyes. A prized breed no doubt, he thought, noting the fluffy coat and delicate ears. But he’d rather have their Chancer with his doubtful pedigree any day.
Serena Jackson lived not all that far from the burned-out house in Kilmacolm, just a few miles further west, on Greenock’s esplanade. The flats were only a few years old, their raw newness contrasting with the neighbouring rows of fine dark-red sandstone tenements looking across the water. Given the choice, Lorimer would have opted for one of the older properties himself, but these gems rarely came on to the market. Each of these modern flats had a metal balcony facing west and he supposed it must be pleasant to stand up there on a summer’s evening, catching the sun’s last rays.
As he glanced behind him, taking in the sweep of the esplanade and the widening waters of the Clyde, another memory came back to him. Maggie’s parents had been there with them as they’d stood at the railings all those years ago among crowds watching as the flotilla of tall ships had left the harbour, folk waving and cheering as each ship had sailed past them. Lorimer gave a sigh. Next year there would only be Maggie and himself coming back down here to see the Tall Ships, unless they were accompanying a frail old lady in a wheelchair. He blinked, then the image of those crowds and that summer evening was gone. All that he saw was an expanse of choppy water, the hills on the other side partially obscured by a low cloud.
Pressing the buzzer next to the name Jackson, Lorimer turned his thoughts to the young woman who had lost her parents in that blaze. She’d not be able to stand side by side with them watching as the ships left harbour next year, would she? He felt a wave of pity mingled with rage at whoever had committed this senseless act, his resolve to find that person hardening as he heard a female voice utter a quiet hello over the intercom.
‘Detective Superintendent Lorimer,’ he replied, shifting from one foot to the other as he uttered the words. He still wasn’t used to this new title and somehow it didn’t come easily from his lips.