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“No,” Nina sighed and smiled, “of course not that old, but when I was a little girl it was already there. I remember being in awe of the old place and now I get to live in it!”

“I think that is very cool. I’d love to see the place,” Gretchen said. “To see you in a house would be odd, though. You are such a typical posh-apartment-for-young-professionals type.”

“Take a good look, honey,” Nina replied. “There is not much young or professional left in me.”

“Oh, bollocks!” her friend retorted. “Your beauty only matured. Let’s just say your looks now match that mean fucking temper of yours.”

Again, Gretchen’s honesty was refreshing after all the lies Purdue and Cleave had fed her so many times. Nina was finally happy.

Chapter 3

“I’m very unhappy!” Sam shouted. “Is there nothing you can do to save him?”

Bruichladdich looked terrible. He was not young anymore, Sam knew that, but he was nowhere near his expiry date.

“Bruich, I’m going to do whatever I can to save you,” Sam promised his beloved pet, waiting for that know-it-all meow Bruich always answered him with. But Sam waited in vain. Bruich had no energy and could barely lift his head at Sam’s affectionate fingertips. “When will you get the test results back?” Sam asked the veterinary nurse.

“By tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Cleave,” she replied. “I promise we’ll call you as soon as we get the results. Don’t worry; we’ll take good care of him here tonight. And once we know the nature of the infection, we’ll be able correctly handle the problem.”

Sam shook his head in disappointment and concern.

“Go on,” she said reassuringly. “Go home and relax. Let us take care of it, all right?”

“Aye,” he said finally. “Thanks.”

Outside his hands were shaking so much Sam could not pull the cigarette from the packet quick enough. Like a desperate addict he lit the tobacco and sucked hard, breathing it in deeply. He felt the wonderful venom fill his lungs as his dark brown eyes stared out into space. If he had to lose Bruich it would devastate him.

After all that time he wasted running from tyrants and their underhanded henchmen, he could have spent those moments with his pet. Now he feared it was too late to make it up to Bruich, his constant absence. He felt terrible about dumping his cat on his best friend, Paddy, every time while he was gone. Instead of going out on expeditions with Dave Purdue and treading deeper and deeper into the marsh of shit he ended up in, he should have just written the damn book about Whitsun’s arms ring and Trish’s death back then, instead of whoring his skills out to Matlock. Then he could have been rich, living a peaceful life, and not looking over his shoulder every time he took a piss.

But now his feline child was on the brink of death and all he could do was leave him at the vet for the night. Standing outside, puffing away on his fag, Sam had not felt this lonely in years. He lost Trish, he lost Nina, and now he was about to lose Bruich. That would leave him with only Patrick Smith as his best pal, and frightfully alone otherwise.

The night wore on quickly, and being alone was not good for Sam. He thought of everything he’d been through, and how many times he barely survived, all in the name of money and relative fame — and Nina. Nina. He tried not to think of her. She was pissed at him, like so many times before, but this time it was permanent and she was not coming back. He had pushed his luck too far with her when he confronted her on her indecision regarding him and Dave Purdue. For once he let her have it, and it was a mistake he could never rectify.

When she walked away from him in Madeira she had no intention of returning. Had he only known that, he would have done everything to change her mind then and there. But he reckoned she would cool down, tame that annoying little temper of hers, and come back to him with a bottle of good single malt whisky, ready to start again. But he was wrong.

He never heard from her after their quest to find the lost continent of Atlantis.

When they arrived in the port, Purdue was apprehended by what Nina thought was Portuguese-speaking police, from where Sam helped her escape. But no sooner had they reached safety, when Nina made it clear that she was done. She was done with it all, and especially with him.

Sam imagined how she would have reacted if she had known that he was the one who indirectly delivered Purdue to the men at the port, and that they were not police seizing him for not having a permit. They were in fact members of the Black Sun and Nina had no idea that Sam had facilitated the ransacking of Purdue’s home in Thurso by the enemies of the Black Sun, the Brigade Apostate. So Sam Cleave betrayed Dave Purdue twice.

He disclosed the location of Purdue’s only trump card against the brigade while he allowed the nanites in his blood to serve as trackers for the Black Sun’s council to follow and capture Purdue.

“This is your punishment for being a gutless traitor,’ he told himself as the cigarette grew shorter between his fingers. “If only Nina knew I did it all for her. And for what? If she could walk away so easily then, imagine if she knew that I was behind it.”

He had no idea, though, that Purdue knew full well that Sam Cleave was involved in the catastrophe that hit him from both sides. Just before he was captured he had received a message marking Cleave as the informant to the brigade, yet he did nothing to avert his fate. As always the cunning Dave Purdue had his reasons.

Sam had had enough of Purdue always getting them all into dangerous situations and most of all Sam was fed-up with the perpetual competition for Nina’s affections. He thought this would get rid of both the problems that Purdue posed, but now Sam realized that perhaps Nina did not take well to the way it all played out. They had not been in touch since Madeira, and he was not about to hound her just to still his ego or his guilt.

Now and then Sam wondered if his doings cost Purdue his life, if they had killed the billionaire for not having what they sought because Sam helped their rivals steal it.

Chapter 4

On Monday Nina picked Gretchen up just before noon to go and sign for her “new” old house. She had only seen it briefly twice before, the first time with an agent who took her to five showings in one day, and the second time when she had asked to view it again to make sure she wanted it. The plumbing and electrical seemed perfectly functional, and apart from some dry rot in the sunroom and parts of the en suite laundry room, Nina had very little to really fix on the place.

Gretchen was chewing on a cinnamon bun as they traveled through the picturesque little town with its horseshoe bay, where boats bobbed on the smooth ocean like buttons on a big, blue-velvet jacket. The German woman marveled at the plain brown St. Columba Cathedral walls as the car glided by on the narrow road. Ahead of them on the horizon Nina saw the clouds gathering. It was not unusual to have unexpected cloud cover throughout the days there, but these gray skies looked persistent.

“We have to hurry. I don’t want to run through a rainstorm from door to door,” Nina noted as she accelerated slightly.

“The clouds are still far off,” Gretchen replied with a mouthful.

“Don’t trust the skies over Scotland. You know this wisdom well,” Nina jested, imitating an old wise woman. Through their light-hearted chuckles they pointed out various sites that were new even to Nina. She felt good about this. Home was home, but it had been reborn in a way. Like reacquainting herself with an old friend, like she did with Gretchen, she basked in the memories of Oban.

“Tell me about that lecture you wanted me to attend, Gretch. I was still going to ask you why you referred me there. You know how tedious I find long ramblings of old academic farts,” Nina told her friend.