'Here, if can find a suitable room. I'll try the community centre.'
'Fine. You get that rest now; if you want me to see the press with you, you only have to ask. But first of all, I've got to tell the Chief Constable what's happened here.'
He caught her glance. 'Don't worry,' he reassured her. 'I'll tell him he's not seeing the video. Jimmy's made a good recovery from his heart attack, but I doubt if he's up to that.'
8
When Skinner and Martin arrived back at the DCC's house in Gullane, Alex's car was parked in the driveway. Sarah's was gone.
'Ah, my kid's here,' said Bob. 'I guess she's child-minding while her step-mother works on poor old Smith. Good, that means I can go and see Jimmy, rather than just phoning him.' As he opened the door of the sports car, Bob looked at his friend. 'I'll bet you haven't had any breakfast. Come on in and have something, a coffee at the very least.'
Andy shook his head. 'Thanks, but…'
'Listen, son. The two of you can't avoid each other for the rest of your lives. You'll be sad bastards if you try; now come in, and no "buts".'
Reluctantly, Martin climbed out of the MGF and followed Skinner into the house.
Alex was in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher, with her back to the door. 'In you go,' said Bob, in a whisper, then turned towards the stairs, leaving him there.
For a second, he thought about turning to go, but instead he stepped into the kitchen.
She heard his footfall and straightened up, a plate in her hand. 'Hi, P-' she began, her voice tailing off as she glanced over her shoulder. If anything she was even more beautiful than he remembered her. He guessed that she had lost a little weight; her face seemed more angular, her eyes deeper.
'Hello, Alex,' he said. 'How are you doing?'
She turned to face him, with an awkward smile which eased the tension. 'Oh, fine. Still stuck in the bloody kitchen, as you can see. You?'
'Okay. Getting on with the job.'
'I heard you've moved house. Dean Village, eh? Going upmarket.'
He shrugged, self-consciously. 'It was just something I felt I had to do. It's better for the collection,' he added lamely.
'Collection?' She smiled, her eyes sparkling — a flash of the old Alex. 'Ah, you mean the paintings…'
'Call in and see them if you like.'
'What? As in "Come up and see my etchings?" We're a bit beyond that.'
A corner of his mouth flickered; more of a grimace than a grin. 'Maybe… But come up anyway. I've missed you.'
For a second, her eyebrows came together in a frown, a trademark gesture inherited from her father. 'I've missed you too. And I'm sorry for the way I behaved… for everything but one thing, that is,' she slipped in, quickly. 'But when we split up, Andy, we didn't just burn the bridges between us — we mined the bloody river.'
'Maybe, but we were friends before we were ever lovers. Can't we get back to that?'
'I didn't think you wanted that.'
'Come on, I hated what you did, but I couldn't hate you, not ever. Anyway, I was way in the wrong too, before then.'
She picked at her fingernails. 'Friends then?' she murmured. 'Okay. I'll come and see the paintings in your new house. I'll call first, of course, just in case you've got company.
As a matter of fact, a colleague of mine called me last night to say she saw you muscling your way into One Rutland Place with a very tasty blonde.'
He flushed; there was no way of preventing it. The girl next door,' he protested.
'That'll be handy for you.' She smiled again, wickedly. 'Does Karen Neville know about her?' His mouth dropped open as he stared at her, as the smile became a laugh. 'Andy, this is a village. When will you realise that?'
'Hey, since when did you listen to gossip? Karen's an off-duty pal, that's all. Just like McGuire and Maggie.'
'Maybe, but my friend Liz's taxi-driver brother didn't pick you up from their house at ten o'clock on a Sunday morning a couple of months back.'
It was his turn to laugh. 'Jesus wept, woman, I'm supposed to be the detective in this relationship.' The last word hung awkwardly in the air for a few seconds, until he pressed on. 'But you tell your pal Liz to tell her brother to be a bit more discreet. One word from me to the traffic boys and he could find life becoming very sad. There are so many reasons for us to pull a black cab over, he could wind up spending more time in the garage than on the road.'
'Andy,' Skinner's voice boomed from the doorway. 'It looks as if you're making your own breakfast at this rate.' He was carrying the baby, carefully, in the crook of an arm. 'Alex, your sister was crying. I think she needs changing.'
'So change her. I'll do a couple of bacon sannies for my ex — just this once, mind.'
He helped Alex make his breakfast, then ate it with her watching him across the kitchen table. 'I couldn't help noticing,' she said, as he sipped his coffee, 'that all that time I was ragging you about your sex life, you were gallant enough not to interrogate me about mine.'
He flashed a look across the table. 'None of my business — as you told me once, I seem to remember.'
'I remember; and I suppose I have to admit to having been wrong, since we were still engaged at the time. Anyway, for what it's worth, I don't have one right now. One thing that you and I did have in common — we were neither of us very good at celibacy. When we broke up, I decided that I should learn. You know, it's quite good for you, really.'
'What is?' asked her father walking back into the room, carrying a newly changed Seonaid.
'Bacon.' Alex looked up from the table. 'You staying for a bit, Pops?'
'No. I've got to go and see Jimmy.'
'Give me ten minutes before you leave. Come on, Andy; finish your coffee and take me for a spin in this new car I've heard about.'
He did as she asked, handing her the keys and allowing her to drive the two-seater out of Gullane, down the Luffness straight, around the Witches Hill Country Club, as far as Ballencrieff, then back through Drem towards the village. He watched her as she flicked the car through the gentle curves of the road as it ran alongside the railway line, nodding approval at the smooth way in which she took the tricky hairpin beyond Drem and accelerated away. She looked as if she had been driving an MGF all her life.
'I like this,' she said, as she cruised back into the driveway of the bungalow.
'Get yourself one then.'
'I'm still too young; the insurance would cripple me.
Besides, Dad wouldn't like it. He has a thing about fast cars and me, after what happened to Mum.'
'Your mother's death wasn't her fault. We know that now.'
'She went like the wind all the same; Pops told me once that he was sure that if she hadn't bought it then, it would have happened another time. He never let her drive him if he could help it.'
'He doesn't have a problem with your driving,' Andy grinned. 'You're nearly as good as me.'
'How could I aspire to that?' She kissed him; for a second or two beyond friendship. 'I'll come to see the pictures soon,' she promised as she climbed out of the driver's seat. 'And don't worry, I'll phone first.'
He thought about Alex all the way back to North Berwick. Was she offering him a way back? Maybe, but on her terms… and he could never forget. It wasn't a matter of forgiveness any more, he knew that. No, he could never forget.
Detective Inspector Mario McGuire was in the mobile headquarters, alone, when Martin arrived back from Gullane. 'Maggie gone for a kip?' the Head of CID asked.
'Yeah. I told her she should go home, but you know her. She wants to co-ordinate the door-to-door results as soon as she's got enough in. Stevie's round at the local office too, getting catering organised for later.'
'What's Mags got you doing?'
McGuire frowned. 'It's not a matter of that, sir. I've got my own locus in this investigation. This guy used to do my Special Branch job. Unless we find out very quickly that he was shagging the woman next door and her husband took revenge…'