‘And how long will that be?’
‘That’s the beauty of it,’ he chuckled, an action that triggered a long, racking cough; it hurt me just to hear it, so God knows what it did to him. ‘It might be longer than if I had the treatment. They can’t say for sure that it won’t. However, when I pressed my own doctor, he guessed three months, maximum.’
I was struggling to take it in. Three days earlier, I’d looked, close to, at Marlon Watson’s broken body and accepted it as part of my daily routine, yet this, out of the blue, was overwhelming. ‘Jesus, Thornie,’ I murmured, feeling close to tears. ‘What are we going to tell Alex?’
‘Well, what are you going to tell me?’ she asked as she emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray, with a coffee pot, three mugs, a milk jug and a packet of the chocolate ginger biscuits that I thought I’d stashed out of her sight.
‘That Grandpa’s going away for a while,’ Thornton replied.
‘Away?’ she repeated, looking at him, full of curiosity as she held the tray for me to unload it. ‘Where?’
‘Places I’ve never been. I’ve decided to go on one last great journey.’
‘To where?’ she persisted.
‘That’s the beauty of magical mystery tours,’ Thornie had been a Beatles fan from their earliest days, ‘you never know where you’re going until you get there.’
‘How do you know you’ll like it?’ She was intrigued.
‘That’s called faith, love. But I will. That’s why they’re always magical. Think about it. If anyone organised crap mystery tours, how long would they stay in business?’
She laughed, and hugged him. ‘Were you a hippie when you were young, Grandpa?’
‘Lassie,’ he chuckled, and only just caught another paroxysm, ‘when I was young we didn’t have hippies. We had ration books and national service. It’s only now I’m old that I’m getting a chance to catch up on that stuff.’
‘Will you send me a postcard?’
‘Sure. Now give me some of that coffee, Alexis, before it gets cold. It’s the only reason I come here, you know, your coffee.’
The truth sank in, and hit me hard: he’d come to say goodbye. I had to get up from the table and go back indoors, quickly, before my daughter saw my face. I went to my bedroom, knowing that she wouldn’t follow me in there, even if she did wonder why I’d left the two of them. It took me a few minutes to pull myself together. Before I went back outside, I changed my shirt, giving myself a cover story if she was wondering why I’d gone so suddenly.
I didn’t need it. When I rejoined them, Thornton and his granddaughter were in full flow. ‘What’s this she’s telling me?’ he said. ‘About you turning into a Lothario?’
‘Certainly not,’ I protested. ‘He was a very shifty type, the original.’ And what was I yesterday? I thought.
‘I must listen to this new friend of yours, Alexis.’
‘I don’t know if you can, Grandpa. She’s on a local station.’
‘But you never know, the signal might reach Carluke, even if it’s not supposed to. They can’t put up walls to keep radio waves out.’ My mobile sounded. ‘Any more,’ he continued with barely a pause, ‘than you can keep them from reaching those things. They can be switched off though, Bob.’
‘Not this one, Thornie. It has to stay on.’
‘You should nag your father into smelling a few of those roses,’ I heard him say, as I flipped it open and headed for the foot of the garden.
‘Yes,’ I grunted, irritably.
‘Is it a bad time, boss?’ Jeff Adam asked.
‘It’s as good as it’s going to get for a while,’ I replied, ‘but not your problem. You’re the guy in the office on a Sunday while I’m in my garden. What’s up?’
‘That Transit van’s been found,’ he announced.
‘Progress, thank Christ. Where?’
‘Newcastle, but don’t get excited. It’s not going to be any use to us; any personal traces that might have been in it are destroyed. It was found in the early hours on a piece of open ground near St James’s Park, set alight. The fire brigade turned out, but it was practically melted by then. They’re taking no chances.’
‘Do we know who “they” are yet? Any joy with the auctioneers?’
‘Afraid not; we’ll get nothing from there before Monday. So no progress, I’m afraid, other than we can stop looking for the van.’
‘I wouldn’t say that, Jeff. The very fact that the thing was still in Newcastle, that tells us something. Unless they went all the way down there to borrow it for the job… and that’s unlikely: it would have been easier to steal something local… then Tyneside is where they’re from.’
‘Does Tony Manson have a Tyneside connection?’
‘Not that I’ve ever heard of. Maybe that’s the problem; maybe somebody there wants to connect with him. But that’s something I’ll ask him when I see him tomorrow. While you’re on, is all quiet with Bella Watson?’
‘Yes. Steele and Mackie are still down the drains, but they’ve had nothing to report. Big Lennie’s still there, so that’s hardly surprising.’
He was right. ‘Fuck it,’ I said. ‘Pull them, Jeff. Tell them to stand down. It’s a waste of overtime. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
I ended the call and went back to the table. My coffee was stone cold, so I made a nonsense of the expensive beans by sticking the mug in the microwave to warm for a few seconds. Thornton and Alex were still chatting and laughing, and I was pulled back to the realisation that this peaceful family scene was never going to be repeated. I’d been expecting to play golf with my father-in-law, so I’d made no plans to entertain him. I phoned the clubhouse, and managed to get the last table for Sunday lunch. The dress rules required a jacket and tie, but Thornton was clad appropriately. Just after twelve, I sent Alex off to dress like a lady, and he and I were left alone again.
He spelled it out for me. ‘This is how I want it to be, Bob, her last memory of me. Unless there’s a remission, and they’ve barely mentioned that notion, I won’t see her again. She thinks she’s grown up, but she’s not ready to handle Grandpa dying in a morphine haze, and I don’t want to see her cry. You can come, son, when it gets near the end. Jean’ll need your support. But not Alexis; not my wee girl. Okay?’
‘Okay, Thornie. It’s your death; it’ll be as you wish.’
‘Good lad. One thing though; make sure they play “Magical Mystery Tour” at my funeral. I wasn’t kidding; that’s how I think of it.’
Indoors, the phone rang, then stopped. I assumed that Alex had picked it up.
‘How are you, son?’ he asked.
‘Me? I’m fine.’
‘And the girlfriend?’
‘Her too.’
‘And the other one?’
‘Someone I met in the course of an ongoing investigation, then spoke to again, yesterday.’
‘Then brought her out here to meet and confuse your daughter.’
I nodded. ‘Yes, I probably shouldn’t have done that. We had a talk, though, and I think she’s all right.’
‘Of course Alexis is all right! It’s you I’m bothered about. You’re vulnerable, Bob. You haven’t a clue how to handle women, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. You’ve had enough o’ that for any man’s lifetime. Be careful, lad. That’s all I’m saying.’
I nodded, and he said no more, until Alex rejoined us, in a navy blue dress with a matching short-sleeved jacket, an outfit that I hadn’t seen before. She might not have been old enough for me to give her a credit card, but I had an account in John Lewis and she was able to charge things to it.
‘That was Alison on the phone, Pops.’ She smiled. ‘She said that her head’s clear and she’ll see you later.’
I didn’t offer to drive to the golf club. It’s less than a quarter of a mile from the cottage and that would have seemed distinctly odd to Alex. So we walked, round the corner, along the path beside the Anglican church and through the car park. Thornton was steady on his feet, but I let him set the pace, and it was slow. He covered it up, though, by pausing every so often, to admire the church, to point out a tree in blossom, and to question Alex about some of the big houses on the skyline. Even then, she knew a lot more about the village than I do.