‘Kenny, I can’t do this, man. Why won’t you come here where I can talk to you?’
Perhaps Kenny heard the panic in his voice, because for the first time he looked directly at Perez.
‘There’s no need for you to be here.’
Perez struggled to find some connection between them, some way of holding the man back from the cliff with his words. ‘Do you mind that summer when you were working on Fair Isle, Kenny? The harbourworks in the North Haven. I’ve been thinking about that since we met up again.’
‘Have you?’ Kenny frowned, willing to be distracted, for a moment at least, from his own thoughts. Perhaps he was glad to be distracted.
‘You came to stay with us in my parents’ house, then you moved back to the hostel. I wondered why you might do that.’
‘Did your mother ever talk to you about me?’
‘Not since. When you were staying on the Isle, I could tell she liked you. She had nothing but good to say about you.’
‘I thought I loved her,’ Kenny said. ‘A bit of summer madness.’ A pause. ‘I did love her.’
Perez felt his stomach tilt again, only this time it had nothing to do with the height of the cliff. His mother was his mother. She wasn’t a woman for men to fall in love with. He didn’t say anything.
‘Nothing happened,’ Kenny said. ‘We weren’t lovers, though I would have liked us to have been. That was why I moved back to the hostel. It drove me mad being in the same house as her. I couldn’t settle. I couldn’t sleep. Now I know it wasn’t a lasting thing. Edith was the woman for me.’ He gave an odd cry, which was lost in the noise of the seabirds.
‘Did my father ever know how you felt about each other?’
Kenny didn’t answer and seemed drowned again in thoughts of his own.
‘Why don’t you move away from the edge, Kenny? So we can talk properly. Not about Fair Isle, but about Lawrence.’
Perez saw that the man’s face was streaming with tears. Molten copper in the orange light. Watching him standing there sobbing, Perez found he was holding his breath. He felt his heart thumping against his ribcage. A couple of steps and Kenny could be over the cliff.
‘Don’t you see?’ Kenny said. ‘There’s no point in talking. Not any more.’
‘I think I’ve worked out what went on.’ Perez sat on the grass, felt the thrift rough against the palms of his hands, and he started to breathe again. ‘Why don’t you sit down too, Kenny? Sit here with me.’
Kenny remained standing. Perez could see that he wasn’t getting through to him. ‘When did it start?’ he asked urgently, shouting out the words, willing Kenny to listen. ‘Did Lawrence always want what you had, Kenny? Even when you were boys?’
‘He was older than me and brighter than me,’ Kenny said. ‘That was only right.’
‘Come away here,’ Perez said again. Kenny was rocking with grief. He’d always been a controlled man, quiet, understated, repressed even. Now he seemed taken over by emotion, unaware of how close he was to the cliff-edge. If he continued like that it would be only a matter of time before he fell. Perez kept his voice light and easy, speaking just loudly enough to be heard above the kittiwakes. ‘But to take Edith away from you, Kenny. That was never right, was it?’
Kenny threw back his head and screamed. ‘What does any of that matter now? Can’t you see, man? It’s all over.’
Something made Perez lean forward and look down to the beach made of rock and shingle at the bottom of the cliff. A small, white figure lay there. Edith. Kenny’s wife. His love.
Chapter Forty-four
Kenny crouched and put his head in his hands. Perez got slowly to his feet and inched towards him across the bridge of rock, keeping his eyes firmly on the man and not looking down, feeling the rush of air on all sides. At last he was standing right behind him. He put his hands around Kenny’s shoulders and pulled him upright, led him to safety away from the cliff-edge. Then they walked together in silence back to Skoles.
In the house Kenny took him through to the sitting room, seeming to think that something more formal than the kitchen was called for, though with its big window looking out over the bay, the sheepskin rugs and the comfortable chairs, this was hardly a standard interview room. On the mantelpiece stood pictures of the Thomson children, smiling, gap-toothed. A wedding photograph. Still Kenny didn’t speak. Perez knew he should telephone Roy Taylor to let him know what had happened, and arrange for Edith’s body to be collected, but all that could wait.
‘You’ll take a dram, Jimmy.’ Kenny was quite composed now, though very white and strained. The outburst on the cliff might never have taken place.
Perez nodded. Kenny took a bottle of Highland Park from a cupboard built next to the chimney and poured out two glasses. They sat looking at each other.
‘I tried to stop Edith jumping,’ Kenny said. ‘In the end she just slipped away from my grasp.’ He shut his eyes. Perez thought the picture of Edith, stepping over the cliff-edge into space, would never leave him.
‘When did you find out that Edith and Lawrence were having an affair? Did you know at the time?’
‘No,’ Kenny said. ‘It never crossed my mind. Not while I was on Fair Isle. I was too wrapped up in my own business there. How did you know? Did Edith tell you?’
‘You know Edith would never do that, Kenny. It’s been her secret. She had too much to lose.’
‘I never thought she would be the sort of woman Lawrence would go for,’ Kenny said. ‘She was quiet, homely then. Not a beauty. Not pretty in the way that made her stand out. But maybe that was what he took a fancy to. The quietness. The determination. He could have had showy Bella, but he decided in the end that wasn’t what he wanted.’
‘He didn’t want Edith just because she belonged to you, Kenny? I wondered if it was about that? A jealousy thing between brothers. Rivalry.’
‘No,’ Kenny said. ‘I don’t think it was that. Lawrence didn’t want to hurt me. He couldn’t help himself.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I don’t know it. Not for sure. It’s what I think – what I want to think, I suppose.’ Outside the sun had dropped further, was chopped in half by the horizon, the outline broken by some twisted threads of purple cloud. The light was softer, less lurid. ‘How did you find out about the pair of them if Edith didn’t tell you?’
‘I worked it out from what people said.’ Perez took a sip of the whisky. ‘Edith mentioned something herself. She told me that Lawrence was like Roddy, had to have a woman in his life. I knew he was spending all his spare time in Biddista that summer. He wasn’t seeing Aggie or Bella, so it must have been Edith. Then Aggie said something similar tonight. “I always felt sorry for Kenny, having to play second fiddle.”’
‘Did the whole valley know?’ Kenny was angry.
‘Not the details,’ Perez said. ‘But that Lawrence liked Edith, most of them would know that. It was just you and Bella in the dark, and I think Bella suspected something. It was just her pride stopped her seeing it.’ He paused. ‘And how about you, Kenny? How did you find out?’
‘I worked it out in the end, a bit like you. I went to see the writer, Wilding. He remembered something of what went on. All those parties. Lawrence must have talked to him. He always did get sentimental when he was drunk. You’re right: Wilding tried to tell Bella at the time that Lawrence had no interest in her, but she didn’t want to hear it.’