“Aye, but he was miraculously not hurt too badly,” Nina reported to the boy’s worried mum. She covered for Brian’s mission to replace the scabbard, so she took her time explaining to give him enough time. “He only suffered a few minor scratches and some electrolyte imbalance, which they treated. Other than that, he is in fine form.”
Pam looked suspicious. “But, isn’t that like, impossible?”
“Unlikely, but not impossible,” replied Nina, hugging her rapidly cooling cup of coffee. “I guess he was just extremely lucky to have survived this with almost no repercussions.”
“And you know this because you are a doctor?” Pam pressed. Nina hoped that Pam’s assumption was the product of minor miscommunication. If not, she was dumber than dirt.
“I hold a doctorate in Modern History, so… I am not a medical doctor,” Nina reiterated, trying not to laugh. The house made her feel claustrophobic and a little sick. Neat and humble, it seemed to remain dark even with the lights on. Something made it a miserable place, but she could not figure out what. All she knew was that it sounded like bad sewer pipes and mold, but even so, she could not ascertain what Brian found so terrifying about his family.
“How do we know you really took him to a hospital?” Pam second-guessed the visitor.
“My dear, he came home in a hospital gown,” Sue defended Nina, who was slowly getting annoyed with the carrot-haired bombshell calling her a liar.
“His clothing was burned off during the force of the current,” Nina countered, tossing the plastic bag on the table. Inside was remnants of the boy’s clothes and shoes, black and reeking of charge burn. “And that is why he needs to put this in his eyes every four hours.” With that, Nina slammed the small bottle of eye drops down on the table. She had had enough. Nina got up to leave just as Brian exited the bathroom. He smelled of detergent and hand soap and he wore his pajamas.
“I just decided to take a bath before grandpa gets home, Grandma,” he smiled. Those wise eyes found Nina’s, silently signaling that the deed was done and covered up. As Sue and Pam cuddled him up and picked him for traces of injuries, he smiled at Nina.
“Right, then, I’m off. My last day tomorrow, so I have to head home,” Nina proclaimed, not even trying to hide her enthusiasm for getting out of Glasgow.
“Already, Miss?” Brian asked.
“Aye, young man. I have another meeting tomorrow evening in Edinburgh, so I have to get all my stuff ready,” she smiled. “Besides, your grandfather should be home soon, right?”
Sue looked at Pam with a look of concern. “Hasn’t answered his bloody phone all day,” she scoffed. “I called his workplace. Bekka says he left work at ten or eleven this morning, claiming to be sick. I tell you, if he is back to his bloody gambling days, I swear to God…”
“But he is never late form work, except the other night when he had to work late,” Pam remarked. “You tried the pub?”
“I even called the hospital he was supposedly going to this morning, and there was nobody by that name in for anything,” Sue hissed. “Are you married, Dr. Gould?”
“God no!” Nina inadvertently exclaimed. Brian and his mother laughed at her sudden, passionate response. “Sorry,” Nina grinned. “No, Mrs. Callany, I am happily single.”
“Dyke?” Pam asked with a wink.
“No!” Nina frowned. “Jesus.”
More laughter ensued around the table. For a moment, the family forgot that the man of the house was absent later than he should be.
“Come on Dr. Gould. One more cuppa before you take off,” Sue cackled, coughing sporadically. Her demeanor was so light that she appeared almost healthy for a minute, but as she crept toward the kettle, Nina could not help but wonder. Carefully she dared ask, “Sue, if I may pry. What is it that ails you?”
Sue looked alarmed. Her eyes fell to Brian immediately. Nina got the hint, and nodded.
“Just some bug,” Sue lied. “The doctors do what they can on what we can afford, you see. Just wish I got more painkillers in the time being, see, but they are just too expensive.”
As the night wore on, one cup became two, then three, until Nina finally had to leave. It was past 10 p.m. and Court Callany had still not returned home. After hours of anger, worry and speculation, Nina reluctantly said her goodbyes to the poverty-stricken family. She hoped that the grandfather was just out on a pub bender and would turn up hungover and sorry the next day.
All the way to her quarters, she could not help but reminisce about the truly unbelievable events of the day. What especially haunted her mind was the way in which Brian’s scabbard gleamed unnaturally when she touched it. It would be very interesting to hear what Purdue could dig up about the piece and she looked forward to visit Wrichtishousis the following night.
16
The Blissful Boredom of Sam Cleave
“I have told you before and I am telling you again. There is nothing I am hiding!” he panted. “I swear. That was all I had! Look, I will make you a deal. If you let me go, I can find out where the rest is, alright?”
Green eyes leered at Sam, having none of it. His pleas fell on deaf ears, but he had to persist, otherwise it would derail his plans. “Listen, Bruich, I promise that I will just be a few minutes. I will be back before you know it,” Sam tried again, but his giant ginger cat persisted in the pathetic glare of neglect. It was five minutes before kick-off and Sam had gone shopping for snacks to watch during the game, but forgot to get Bruichladdich’s favorite nibble.
“Okay, listen, half time! Half time I will get your Webbox sticks, I promise,” Sam negotiated. The huge feline was unperturbed, but the whistle sounded on the flat screen’s speakers. Similar to a gallows bell tolling for a doomed criminal, the poor cat knew that all bets were off. Sam lunged sideways onto his couch, popping open a Heineken and kicking back.
Not impressed, the cat leapt onto the coffee table, capsizing Sam’s guacamole dish onto the floor. Usually, Sam would have shoved his feline roommate off the table for his insolence, but this time he reckoned he had it coming. “Well done, you bastard,” he muttered as he dashed for a cloth and cleaned up most of the mess. Bruichladdich sat atop the table, licking his paw without a care while Sam missed the first few minutes of the footie.
As soon as Sam had finally returned everything back to normal, his phone rang.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he bellowed. “That was what I forgot!” Referring to switching off his phone and communication devices, Sam could feel Bruich mentally adding, ‘That was not all you forgot, dipshit.’ Sam, however, was not going to answer, letting the phone ring out until the caller ceased the need to speak to him. He summarily grabbed the cell phone and was about to switch it off when he saw who had been trying to contact him.
“Purdue?” Sam read. “Why now?”
Sam was not one of the best investigative journalists in the world for naught. The only thing he excelled at more than investigating illegal activities, was being inquisitive. His curiosity was his most powerful driving force, and that counted for phone calls as well.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered as he gave in to his urge and called back. “Purdue! I was about to watch the game. How are you?”
“Well, thanks Sam!” Purdue exclaimed in his old jovial way. “Listen, I get the hint about the footie, so I will keep this short. How would you like to join me and some people tomorrow evening for the inauguration of my new and improved dining hall?”
Sam chuckled. “Dining hall, you say. It used to be a dining room. Is it bigger now? Or did you make it all Game of Thronesy?”