Heartlands

by Kerry Watts

  ‘Stop being a dick, Ben.’

  Andrew Foster slumped onto the ground outside his cottage. The same cottage that had stood on that spot since 1646. Bonnie Prince Charlie himself was said to have visited it on his brief, disastrous trip to Scotland in 1746, exactly a hundred years later. Nobody could find evidence that this was the case, but Andrew’s mum was adamant it was a true story and she was proud to share it. Andrew cradled his head in his hands.

  ‘Stop, stop, stop shouting.’ He rocked back and forth. ‘It’s so loud. Make them stop.’

  ‘Ben, are you proud of yourself?’ Shannon’s tone sharpened. ‘Give me Andrew’s keys.’

  ‘I said, come and get them.’

  Ben’s mood darkened as he raised the keys in front of her.

  ‘Shit, man, just give her the keys.’ Craig blasted. ‘It’s not worth the aggro.’

  Shannon stared Ben down, then lunged for them but missed.

  ‘Too slow!’ Ben teased, then dangled them out in front of her again.

  Shannon saw red and lurched forward, this time knocking Ben to the ground as she grabbed them.

  ‘Come on, Andrew, let’s get you inside. I’ll make a cup of tea.’

  ‘It’s loud, it’s too loud,’ Andrew muttered. ‘I’m late. They’re going to be so mad with me.’

  Shannon switched on the kettle and searched for two clean cups, but decided she probably wouldn’t have a cup after all. Not after seeing the thick, cheese-encrusted plates stacked by the sink, some with mould forming a fine layer across the rim. She found a mug for Andrew and rinsed it under the tap, troubled by the hot tap producing no more than a lukewarm trickle. She wondered if her dad might have a look at it for him. She opened a window to allow in some fresh air. The kitchen smelt stale, like it hadn’t been aired for a long time. The sound of the kettle clicking off startled Andrew, who leapt up from the chair with a scream. Shannon moved forward to reassure him. She’d never seen him so agitated, his limbs flailing in all directions.

  ‘Get off me!’ he screamed, his sharp thumbnail scraping her lip.

  ‘Ouch!’ Shannon yelped and pressed the cut with her finger. When she removed her finger and saw the blood, she jogged upstairs to assess the damage in the bathroom mirror.

  ‘Shannon, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.’ Andrew’s agitation increased. ‘Stop screaming at me, I know I’m late, I know I’m late.’

  A couple of drops of blood trickled from Shannon’s lip and dripped onto the floor before she made her way back to Andrew.

  ‘Look, it’s OK, I’m fine, Andrew.’ She struggled to get him to focus on her, but eventually he smiled at her as if he was returning to reality. ‘I’m going to pop out and get you a couple of things from across the road, OK?’

  She wasn’t sure if Andrew had understood completely, but the shop wasn’t far so she wouldn’t be long. It was probably a good idea for her mum to look in on Andrew too.

  ‘What are you laughing at?’ Ben growled. ‘I let her knock me down. Got to let them win sometimes.’

  Ben did his best to cover up his embarrassment but inside, he was seething. He watched Craig disappear towards home and wandered for a while to gather his thoughts. It would be better if he had a chance to calm down a bit before he faced Shannon. Ben perched himself on the edge of the riverbank and tossed branches into the fast-flowing current, mesmerised by the speed at which they were sucked in and chewed up by the angry flow.

  ‘Andrew, it’s just me.’

  Shannon returned from gathering a few bits for him and coughed with the dust choking her throat. She moved past newspapers piled high on either side of the hallway. Asking him to tidy up was a waste of time, and doing it for him was not an option. The stress of that was likely to cause more harm than good.

  ‘Andrew, what have you done?’ She dropped the shopping bags. ‘What have you done?’

  ‘It’s nothing, leave me alone!’ Andrew snarled and continued to scratch at his arms with the fork, causing blood to pool and trickle onto his trousers. ‘I have to. It’s my punishment. They warned me not to be late again, and the numbers. They are all wrong. They are all so wrong. This will teach me to get it right. I have to try harder.’

  ‘Andrew, stop that, you’ll hurt yourself.’ Shannon tried to move forward with her phone in her hand, ready to call Louise.

  Her advance only agitated Andrew further, who cut deeper into his arms.

  ‘Get out! Get out of my house!’ he screamed. ‘Get out!’

  Andrew lunged at her with the fork, sending her phone tumbling to the floor. Shannon fled out of the back door and straight into Ben, who was startled by her sudden arrival. He leapt up from his place close to the water’s edge and moved swiftly towards her. Ben hadn’t forgotten the humiliation she’d caused. Who the hell did she think she was? Mummy’s perfect angel.

  ‘Well, look who it is,’ Ben taunted her. ‘Andrew Foster’s girlfriend.’

  Shannon didn’t have time for Ben’s nonsense. ‘Go away, Ben.’

  Ben scowled and grabbed her arm. ‘What did you just say?’

  ‘I said, go away.’ Shannon shrieked and lunged forward to push him over again.

  This time he caught hold of her and forced her away from him. The sickening crack when her head hit the boulder almost stopped his heart. She wasn’t moving. Ben dropped to his knees and grabbed hold of her shoulders. He shook her violently, but there was no response.

  ‘Shit, shit.’ He got to his feet and paced back and forth, his fingers clenched across the top of his head. ‘Fuck.’ He glanced left and right, then covered his mouth with both of his hands. ‘Shannon?’ he called out to her, then kicked her arm with his trainer. The sound of the fast-flowing river invaded his thoughts. Oh my God, I’ve killed her. No, no, no, Shannon. Wake up.

  Ben panicked. He struggled to pick up her lifeless body, dragging it part of the way to the water’s edge. He glanced down at her. She looked so peaceful. Even the anger that gnarled her features was gone. She just looked like she was sleeping. His heart thundered in his chest as he tossed her down into the abyss. The swirling, angry current pulled her away from him instantly. It was only a matter of seconds before he couldn’t see her at all.

  He had to get out of there. He didn’t think he’d been seen, but he couldn’t be a hundred per cent. He tugged the hood of his jacket over his head and scurried towards the park, almost bowling into Rob and Cassie Taylor. He muttered an inaudible apology but kept his head down until he was well past them.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Jason had never needed a drink more in his life. The small church that had stood at the heart of the Highland Perthshire town since the time of the Reformation was filled with mourners, and there was barely a pew left empty. John Knox himself was rumoured to have given a speech to the enthralled congregation of the day. The sixteenth-century building had withstood the years well. Today it was filled with the scent of lilies, donated by Wilma’s flower shop. She wanted to fill the space with love. The love she wanted Louise and Jason to know was there for them. The whole community grieved along with Jason and Louise. Shannon was one of theirs, and her loss was felt deeply. The weight of Agatha Baldwin’s hand on his shoulder stirred Jason from his thoughts of whisky.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, then took her seat further back in the church.

  Jason smiled and nodded at her kind words. He wished Louise would hurry back. She’d told him she needed a few minutes to gather her thoughts. That was half an hour ago.

  ‘Louise. How are you doing?’

  Louise lifted her head to see Jessie and Dylan standing over her. She stubbed out her cigarette and stood to greet them.

  ‘Hi, I don’t usually. Today I just needed something, you know?’

  ‘I’ll see you inside, Jess,’ Dylan murmured and nodded to Louise as he passed.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see either of you here. I really appreciate you coming.’

  ‘I’m heading back to Perth later. Dylan wanted to
show his respects, too.’ Jessie ran a hand over Louise’s arm. ‘How’s Jason?’

  Louise shrugged. ‘Not good. Having the assault case hanging over him isn’t helping, but that was all him. Nobody forced Jason to kick the shit out of Rob. He was damn lucky to get bail.’

  Jessie couldn’t disagree. ‘I guess the CPS looked at the bigger picture, Louise. I suppose they thought you needed him more. Listen, if I don’t see you later, take care of yourself.’

  ‘You too, DI Blake, and thank you for everything.’

  Jessie moved towards the huge church doors. She took her seat next to Dylan at the back of a packed St Mark’s, and nodded to Louise as she passed to join Jason. She was pleased to see the church so full, for Louise and Jason’s sake. She spotted Maggie Malcolm, who gave a small wave in greeting. Even the fisherman who had stumbled upon Shannon’s body was there. Blair Crawford too acknowledged her. Jessie smiled grudgingly back at him.

  Jason looked up from the pew and gripped Louise’s hand before she could sit down. She offered him a soft smile, her eyes filled with heavy tears and she grabbed his hand in hers. Reverend Malcolm’s words disappeared into a fog of grief when Shannon’s simple white coffin passed them. It wasn’t until the sound of ‘Over the Rainbow’ was being played that Louise lifted her head to face him and he acknowledged her with such a warm smile. It was then that she recognised the beautiful girl he was talking so fondly about. She was a kind girl. A generous soul. A funny girl, full of fun and mischief. Her heart was huge and filled with love for her family and her best friend Eric.

  Jessie watched Eric’s mother squeeze him tightly when they heard his name mentioned, as he swallowed down the surge of emotion it released. It would seem Shannon Ross was truly loved, and that made her premature death even more tragic.

  Maggie Malcolm put a glass of lemonade in front of Jason and leaned in close to his ear.

  ‘I’m proud of you, Jason,’ she murmured. ‘It can’t be easy, today of all days.’

  ‘Aye, thanks,’ he answered. What else could he say? If only Maggie knew how much he wanted to shove her aside and drink himself into oblivion.

  ‘Hey.’ Louise touched the base of Jason’s back. ‘I’ll have the same, Maggie.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that.’ Jason planted a soft kiss on her lips. ‘Have a glass of wine if you want one. It’s OK.’

  The past couple of weeks had been hell on their marriage, and it would take time, but they’d both agreed to try. They owed that to Shannon’s memory.

  Louise held his gaze, then turned to Maggie.

  ‘Lemonade, Maggie, thanks.’

  He kissed the top of her head, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders as Louise snuggled her head into his chest.

  A lump filled Blair Crawford’s throat as he stood there watching them standing so close in their grief. His mind couldn’t help drifting to Tom Nicoll and the grief his family had been through, grief that led to years of hate and a quest for justice that consumed him. He hoped, for Tom’s sake, that one day he would be able to find the peace he so needed. He lifted the handle of his suitcase and held the door open for a face he recognised before walking across the car park to his car.

  ‘Louise?’ A voice piped up from behind them. ‘Jason?’

  ‘Cassie.’ Jason reached out to hug her warmly. ‘It’s good to see you. How are you?’

  ‘That was a beautiful service,’ Cassie said quietly. ‘I won’t stay, I just wanted to pay my respects.’

  ‘Would you like a drink?’

  Cassie turned to face Louise, who struggled to hold her gaze until Cassie reached for her hands. She squeezed them both firmly in hers, then wrapped her arms around Louise.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Louise sobbed. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Louise clung to her tightly and allowed the tears to flow. First slowly, them tumbling furiously, then faster and faster until she felt like she was going to pass out.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Louise cried, ‘I’m sorry, Cassie.’

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Two months later

  ‘Are you sure?’ Jessie asked her sister, who shrugged gently, the sound of raucous laughter emanating from a staff Christmas lunch at the other end of the restaurant.

  The news of Moira Blake’s diagnosis still came as a shock, despite Jessie knowing how sick her mum was.

  ‘Mum’s being her usual chirpy self, but I think, deep down, she’s scared. I know I would be.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘A few months at best, maybe a year?’

  Jessie clasped her fingers over her mouth. All those years spent apart, and now her mum was dying.

  ‘Can I get you ladies something to drink?’ the waiter piped up from behind them.

  Jessie wouldn’t have blamed Freya for ordering a beer, and was so proud of her when she asked for a lemonade instead.

  ‘We’re going to have to be strong for her, aren’t we?’ Freya asked. ‘I don’t know if I can—’

  Jessie’s eyes misted over and she sniffed back her tears while she reached her hand out across the table. ‘Yes, you can. We both can, and we will. We’ll be there for Mum, come what may.’

  Jessie parked her car and checked the lock three times for peace of mind. She gripped her keys in a fist, the sharp edge pushing through, and walked into the garden she shared at the back of her apartment block, jumping with fright when Smokey appeared from behind Dave’s bike shed. Smokey rubbed himself around her ankles, almost tripping Jessie up. She scanned her surroundings before picking him up and nuzzling him to her cheek. Jessie continued to check for any disturbance: footprints, anything out of the ordinary. When she was satisfied, she made her way upstairs. She undid the two locks and scanned the hall before closing the door and fastening the locks then fixing the two chains across.

  The sight of two messages blinking on her machine filled her with dread. Dan didn’t have her number, but it was a fear that never left her. She tapped and listened to message number one, then smiled at Dylan’s silly message about turning forty and that Shelly couldn’t wait to see her. ‘It’s been too long,’ he added.

  The second message was from Moira Blake, struggling to speak without becoming breathless, to check that Jessie was still coming for dinner on Sunday. Of course Jessie was coming for dinner. There weren’t many dinners left for them. Jessie swept from room to room, checking every window was closed and bolted, just in case. She opened her wardrobe and pushed aside the hangers. She tossed open the shower curtain.

  She drained the remnants from the bottle of Chardonnay into her glass and peered down at the lights of Perth, glowing as far as the eye could see. With a population of fifty thousand, she had no evidence to believe he was one of them. It was just her gut. In many ways Jessie had chosen the location of her flat in the same way Rob Taylor had. It was close enough, yet far enough away from the chaos of life. A place from where she could observe the world without getting involved. Smokey purred and wriggled himself close to her again.

  ‘I haven’t forgotten you, wee man,’ she said as she pulled his biscuits from the cupboard.

  With his face in his dish, Jessie could escape Smokey’s attentions for a bit. Not that she complained, not really. She would be lost without him. She kicked off her boots and flopped onto the sofa. It had been a long day. Her ambition to rise to the rank of Detective Inspector was realistic, and with it came the long days and sleepless nights, but Jessie didn’t mind.

  Her first case as lead detective would never leave her, though. The sadness and pain of Shannon Ross’s death oozed through every fibre of Inverlochty, and it would take a lifetime for the small Highland Perthshire community to come to terms with their loss, more accustomed as they were to welcoming tourists than the police. Not to mention the discovery that a convicted killer was living in their midst. She wondered if she would live her life differently if she didn’t know Dan had been released. But she did know, and had to live her life accordingly.

  Louise tucked the f
lowers under her arm and tightened her coat around her chin against the biting December chill, small flakes of snow tumbling around her. The unexpected blast of icy wind caused her to grasp her hat and yank it further down over her ears. She wiped the drips from her nose with the back of a glove and pushed open the huge steel gates of the churchyard. Reverend Malcolm offered a small nod before heading into the relative warmth of St Mark’s. He had been so kind to Louise and Jason. His beautiful words had brought such comfort on the worst day of their lives.

  Louise wiped the thin layer of powdery snow from the top of Shannon’s gravestone, then kissed her fingers and placed them gently on her name. Shannon Ross. Gone But Never Forgotten. There were no four words in the universe that were truer. There were still some mornings that Louise lifted three mugs from the mug tree for breakfast. There were even times she’d gone as far as spooning coffee into all three before realising she’d done it. Setting the table for all four of them, too. Four of them. Louise hadn’t just lost a daughter. She’d lost a brother.

  Ben’s name was never mentioned when Louise met people in the street. They asked how she was. How was Jason doing? Some even went as far as touching her arm gently and spouting words like ‘time’s a great healer’. Louise was grieving not just the loss of her baby, but the loss of the baby brother she thought she knew. It wasn’t the fact that Ben had killed Shannon. It was his lies, and the fact that he had allowed her to go through the torment of not knowing.

  Her relationship with their mother, Shannon’s grandmother, was non-existent at the moment. Her own guilt that her son could do such a horrific thing kept her away from her grieving daughter, and that hurt. But it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Their mother did have a habit of putting herself before her children’s needs. If history was anything to go by, that wouldn’t change any time soon.