‘No,’ I protested. ‘No way would she be involved in this.’
‘She doesn’t need to be. She only needs a mobile number that she didn’t bother to tell you about. She only needs to have phoned her son to ask him what the hell’s going on.’
I had to admit that it sounded plausible.
‘If you find Donn,’ I asked, ‘what will you-’
‘DI Dylan,’ Chief Inspector Brown’s voice barked from the doorway, cutting off my question in mid-ask. ‘Car’s here for you. Don’t keep them waiting now.’
His shout woke Susie. She looked around, moist-eyed, dazed and confused. ‘Whrr. .?’ she mumbled.
‘You’re on your way home, love. Let’s go now.’ Mike half-lifted her to her feet and walked her to the door, his arm round her waist.
‘Keep us in touch won’t you,’ said Prim as we followed them to the front door.
‘I’ll tell you all about it when everything’s sorted,’ Dylan replied. ‘But not before. Meantime you just forget it and concentrate on the boy Oz’s acting debut.’
Chapter 14
‘Tell me, boy. Have you ever given any thought to the possibility of planning your life?’ Mac the Dentist gazed at me over the top of his pint. ‘Thinking beyond the next few days, I mean.’
Prim and I hadn’t slept much after our flat was finally cleared of police and firemen. We had lain wide-awake for most of the night, as the truth of our friends’ narrow escape had come home to us.
‘Oz, you do know that Mike’s right, don’t you. We’ve got to leave Stephen Donn to him from now on.’
‘Sure, I know that. After what happened tonight it would be crazy to try to stay involved. No way would I put you in danger.’
‘Nor I you. Except. .’
‘. . except nothing. But I know what you mean.’
‘It’s frustrating having come this far. And you’ve always said. .’
‘. . that Mike as a detective couldn’t find his arse with both hands? I know, but I suppose-’
‘Suppose nothing. Mike’s right.’ A giggle in the dark. ‘Mind you it’ll be the first time. .’
In the end though, we had agreed that difficult as it might be to suppress our mutual curiosity, we would have to make the effort. I had to prepare for a weekend GWA trip to Holland by learning a few words of Dutch, read up on my part in Miles’ and Dawn’s movie — working title Project 37 according to my script — and Prim had the business to run. By Thursday, though, we were going crazy, frustrated at not knowing what was going on. I tried calling Dylan on his mobile during the day, but came up with the ‘unavailable’ message every time. In the end, we had decided to give ourselves a complete break by driving up to Anstruther that afternoon to see my folks and flash Prim’s sparkler at them.
We took them by surprise. Mac the Dentist had just ushered the day’s last patient out of his surgery, and Mary, my stepmother, was still in her going shopping clothes. They congratulated us as we had expected, even if I did detect a split second’s hesitation on Mary’s part; understandable in the circumstances. Two hours later we were sitting in the bar of the Ship Inn in Elie, having a drink while we waited for our table to be prepared in the restaurant next door.
I looked back at my Dad. ‘What do you think Prim and I are doing now, if not planning our lives?’
‘Ah, that’s not what I mean and you know it. You’re still the same bloody mayfly you were when you were a kid. I never know what you’re going to be up to next; and how can I when you don’t bloody know yourself.’ He grinned at Prim. ‘As for this one here, she’s your partner in crime.
‘Christ, look at you, the pair of you. You’ve got all that money, and what are you doing with it? Not a damn thing. Okay, you bought our Ellie a house, and that was good, but you’ve still got a fortune. You could be investing it in a proper business and running that; or you could just be living on it and getting your golf back to a decent standard. But no, not you two. You’re still tearing about interviewing hooks and crooks for lawyers, introducing wrestlers, selling bloody toys on telly, and now acting, for any sake.’
Suddenly his grin vanished; he reached out grabbed one of my hands and one of Prim’s and squeezed them both. ‘Still, I’m glad you’ve made up your minds about the most important thing. You’ve had enough hurt in other ways; you’re right to grab each other now. I don’t know anyone who won’t be happy for you. Isn’t that right Mary?’
Next to him, my stepmother nodded and smiled. ‘Of course it is. The world goes on, and we all have to go on with it. This afternoon is history already, gone with everything that has passed before. You have to live with your memories, but it is possible to live happily with all of them.’ She linked her arm through my Dad’s. ‘We’re proof of that, aren’t we, Mac.’
‘We sure are, my dear. So just you two follow our example. And remember to stop and smell the flowers. . for as long as you like. Take some time for yourselves. Have a couple of kids. Find a direction and stick to it. Most of all, steer clear of the private detective business. That’s brought you nothing but grief.’
We hadn’t got round to telling them about Mike and Susie’s problem; at that moment we decided that we wouldn’t bother. Instead we nodded and promised them that we would think about curtailing things in the future and about keeping our activities on more of a straight line.
We allowed ourselves to be talked into discussing wedding plans, of which in truth, until that time we hadn’t even begun to think. Mary was all for Prim turning matters over to her mother, but that seed fell on stony ground.
‘My folks are Churchy,’ my fiancee explained. ‘I’m not. And all that apart, there’s no way I’m letting anyone stick me in a white frock and parade me through the town in a Roller.’
‘Hey, what about me?’ I protested.
‘You can wear the frock if you like. I’m just not into that sort of show.’
Eventually we hit on the proposal that we would get married on our own turf, in the Registry Office in Glasgow, and that we would have a reception in the Hilton, within sight of our flat. The hard part about that would be selling the idea to Ma Phillips, when we saw her on the following Sunday. Dad wouldn’t be a problem; he never was where Prim was concerned.
Mac the Dentist was pulling teeth next morning, so he kept a check on his intake. Nevertheless, by the time our taxi came to collect us, he was fairly relaxed. ‘What age are you now, son?’ he asked, as he stood on the narrow pavement outside the Ship, watching the girls slide into the back seat of the cab. ‘Thirty-two, isn’t it?’
My Dad is the great pillar of wisdom in my life. Whenever I’ve been worried, confused, uncertain, bewildered or just downright scared, he’s been there for me. Most times he’s just laughed, given me a figurative cuff round the ear, told me not to be daft, and everything’s been all right. But on occasion, he’s gone all serious; that’s just about the only time he ever calls me son.
I nodded, trying to ignore the sign. ‘You should know as well as I do,’ I told him. ‘Maybe better. After all I hadn’t a bloody clue what age I was until I was at least three; so you’ve known what age I was for longer than I have. Understand?’
‘Daft bugger,’ he grumbled. ‘However many years it is you’ve been kidding folk along on this planet, there’s never been one of them when you could put anything over on me. Even when you and Jan split up, and both of you really thought you had, too, I knew better.’
He tapped me on the chest. ‘Just like right now. I know there’s something going on you’re not telling me about, and it makes me suspect that you’ve been up to your sleuthing tricks again.
‘If I’m right, you remember this. Those of us who are lucky enough to be given a second shot at happiness have to do everything in our power to make sure that we don’t. . fuck. . it. . up!’
Chapter 15
There can be few greater contrasts in Scottish humanity than that between Prim’s father and my own.