They Won't Believe You (Scottish Dark Romance Book 1)

by Paisley Alice Quinn

  “Will you look at that view?” she said to the little dog, pointing to the window from which they had a bonnie view of the mountain leading up to Arthur’s Seat.

  “Beautiful city, isn’t it? And a beautiful day, despite the rain.”

  6

  “Now, do we have a name for you?” she asked, looking at the dog’s tag.

  Really, she was just curious. She didn’t give a fig what that man had called him.

  He was a gorgeous wee dog, the pads of his paws as soft and smooth as leather gloves and he was keeking at her with large, sad eyes.

  “I’m gonna call you Dexter,” she said and he smiled, his tongue hanging out over his mouth.

  “Now, I’ve got a wee cat at home. You do like cats, don’t you? She’s a good lass, a bit particular. I think you’ll rub along together just fine as long as you don’t take any of her bull.”

  His little ears flickered as she spoke, and he let out a single yap. He never took his eyes off her, as if she was the most fascinating person in the world and maybe she was to him. She could already tell he was going to be a good listener.

  “We’ll be getting off now,” she told him when the bus pulled up at the next stop. “Home is that a way.”

  She crossed the road and waited for the next bus. It didn’t take her all the way but dropped her off about a quarter of a mile from her flat. Normally she charged down the hill but now she slowed her pace to match Dexter’s as he scurried along the pavement, splashing in all the puddles along the way.

  “Oh, where did you get the wee doggie?”

  Kylie bit back her exasperation. Flora was not normally home at this time. She should have been working at the pub.

  “He had a bad owner so I confiscated him.”

  Flora gaped. “You can’t be doing that! Honest to god. You’ll get yourself arrested.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Kylie!”

  “Honestly, it’s fine. I bet he won’t give a shite.”

  Flora narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be daft. Of course, he’s gonna want his fucking dog back!”

  “No, he won’t.”

  She picked Dexter up and marched up the stairs with him before Flora could utter another word.

  “You need to take the dog back!” Flora called after her.

  “Well, this is us,” she told Dexter as she unlocked the door to her flat.

  She set him down and he trotted about the place, sticking his nose into every corner.

  “I know it isn’t much but I have all the basics right here. The mattress is comfy enough and I’ve a wee kitchen over there in the corner.”

  Sinister sat on the window ledge, her tail curled neatly beneath her. Sometimes she left it dangling and then seemed surprised to see it twitch, as if it operated completely independently of her.

  “Now then, Sin, don’t you be looking down your nose like that. This is your new brother, Dexter. I expect you to be on your best behaviour.”

  Sinister narrowed her eyes and leapt down into the sink, tipping her head back to drink the water that dripped incessantly from the tap. Her lime green eyes flickered over the newcomer as she paraded over to her food bowl, each footstep graceful and deliberate. Dexter watched as she grazed at the food there, keeping his distance until she was finished. Only then did he scuttle over and lick the bowl clean.

  Kylie poured out a few more cat biscuits and he instantly vacuumed them up with his tongue.

  “Easy now,” she warned. “Leave some for later.”

  She made herself a cup of noodles then flopped down on the sofa to watch TV. The local news was on and she fantasised that there would be a mention of Dexter’s rescue, though of course there wasn’t. People rarely recognized an injustice, even when it took place right under their noses.

  “I’ll go to the shops tomorrow and get you everything you need,” she told Dexter. “But for now, you’ll have to share. I’ll be doing sausages for tea, that suit you?”

  The dog smiled, his tongue hanging out as if he understood. He settled down on her mattress and closed his eyes. She set down her noodles and petted him affectionately, trying not to think about his owner.

  “I should tell you, Dexter, this is where I sleep, but since you don’t have your own bed yet, I suppose you’re fine there.”

  The sausages sizzled in the pan. Kylie sniffed appreciatively. There was nothing quite like it to get her mouth watering. She wondered how many she should give Dexter. She had a hunch the little dog would eat as many as she allowed him. She decided she would give him two, cut up into little pieces to be sure he wouldn’t choke.

  “Have you got a dog in there?” Craig yelled through the door.

  “No!”

  Dexter yapped in agreement.

  “I can hear him, Kylie.”

  With a sigh, she went to the door and found Craig and Flora standing there like disappointed parents.

  “Where did you get him?” Craig wanted to know as Dexter licked his leg.

  “I’m not giving him back.”

  “You know Andy doesn’t allow dogs,” Flora said.

  Kylie laughed. “When was the last time he came around to inspect?”

  “She has a point,” Craig said. “I’ve lived here almost a year now and I haven’t seen him since the day I moved in.”

  “Fall behind on the rent and you’ll see him alright,” Flora warned. “That’s all he cares about, money.”

  “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Kylie reasoned. “I’m not hurting anyone.”

  “What about his owner?”

  “His owner can fuck a dead duck. Believe me, Dexter’s better off with me.”

  Craig looked at Flora who shrugged.

  “Well, I have to be at work in a minute,” she said, giving up. “I just hope you know what you’re doing, Kylie. I’d hate for you to get arrested.”

  “No one’s arresting me.”

  “Good,” said Craig, “Because I’ve worked in prisons and believe me, you wouldn’t survive a day.”

  She pushed her chin out. “Want a bet?”

  He shook his head. “Not even one day.”

  “And I’m not visiting you,” Flora threw in. “Nasty, scummy places, prisons. Stink of piss.”

  “All right, I get the picture. Shit, my sausages are burning!”

  She ran over to her little kitchenette and took them off the heat.

  “Right, we’ll leave you to your dinner,” Craig said.

  “Night then.”

  “Night all.”

  Kylie didn’t fancy the sausages after all. She fed Dexter his and wrapped the rest up for later, suddenly exhausted. She flopped down on her mattress and closed her eyes, not sleeping, but not entirely awake. It was always in these moments that the flashes came to her, like ripples on the tide:

  She eased the plastic swimming hat off her head and filled it under the showers. She was fast but Ruth was faster. She howled in protest as Ruth emptied her hat all over her and the water streamed down her face.

  “Wait! I’m not ready!”

  She bent down to retrieve her hat and Ruth got her a second time. She didn’t know how she did it so quickly.

  “Not fair!”

  There was a lull while she refilled her hat then she tossed it high in the air, landing it beautifully, a direct hit to Ruth’s shoulder. Ruth socked the hat back at her like a volleyball, but Kylie caught it and threw it back. The water splashed the both of them as it exploded against the wall and they laughed and shrieked with glee.

  “Hurry up, girls!”

  Kylie spun round.

  Coach McCracken was standing in the doorway, his hands planted firmly on his hips. Kylie glanced down in horror at her naked body and grabbed her towel from its hook on the wall. Ruth did the same and they covered themselves as best as they could. The coach continued to stand there, and Ruth glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. Kylie pasted a smile on her face to reassure her friend, but she felt as though all the joy had been s
ucked out of her as she fumbled with the key to her locker.

  7

  “You missed your photo session,” Marc Peters said when Kylie arrived at work the next day. He and his camera bag were blocking the entrance. She considered legging it back down the hill, but then they’d all know she was nuts.

  “Sorry, I had to go home early yesterday. I had a headache.”

  “You’re alright now though?”

  “Yeah, but I have to update the database.”

  “That can wait. I’m doing your photo.”

  She hesitated, scanning her brain for a fresh excuse.

  “Come on, I’ll make it quick. It’ll be like ripping off a plaster.”

  He had her stand out the front with the hills and the castle in the background.

  “I’m genuinely interested,” he said as he fiddled with the camera. “Whether you’re going to shrivel to dust at the first click of the camera.”

  “If I do, it’s your fault.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take full responsibility.”

  He stood with his camera poised. “You have to smile.”

  “Sorry, I thought I was.”

  “You look like you’re standing on a thistle. Try thinking about something else. A fine day at the beach, a sale at your favourite shoe shop, a game of Dungeons and Dragons, whatever does it for you, Kylie.”

  She took a deep breath, but intrusive thoughts crawled out at her from the shadows of her mind.

  “Relax!”

  She thought of the walk she had taken that morning, up and down her street. There had been a chill breeze, with a mist coming in from the east, but Dexter hadn’t seemed to mind. He’d wagged his tail, his little legs trotting along beside her.

  “It’s a good shot, Kylie. This’ll do fine.”

  “Is that it?”

  “All done.”

  “Good. Wait, can I see the picture?”

  “Fine.”

  She took the camera and saw someone she almost didn’t recognise. Her green eyes sparkled, and her mouth was half-smiling, half-wistful, like a model in a holiday brochure.

  “You must have a real knack,” she told him, as she dipped at the knees to retrieve her handbag. “I usually look like someone off the FBI’s most wanted.”

  Marc laughed a little too loud. “You’re a strange fish, Kylie Fairbairn. Did anybody ever tell you that?”

  “I’ve been called a lot worse,” she muttered.

  She bumped up the steps to the library and scurried towards her desk. No sooner had she sat down than Muriel appeared, like an ill-timed fairy godmother.

  “Where have you been? We’re having a staff meeting in the reading room. I need you to make the tea.”

  With that, she dashed off, clutching her beloved box file. Kylie shrugged off her coat and headed for the staff room, where she balanced as many mugs as possible on a tray and filled the large urn with hot water.

  “Watch it!” Muriel hissed, as Kylie staggered into the overcrowded room. It was not designed for this many people, but it was often the only room available if Muriel wanted to gather everyone together. There was no real benefit to these meetings that Kylie could see. Muriel just wanted to throw her weight around.

  Whoever had been speaking had paused momentarily, prompting everybody to watch as she set the mugs and urn down on the table, placing the milk and sugar in the middle. She swallowed hard as she realised who it was standing by the whiteboard. Lachlan.

  “Thank you, Kylie.”

  She felt all eyes on her as she poured out the tea and wished that they would all just go on with their meeting. She heaved a sigh of relief as the last mug was filled, and people began to help themselves to the milk and sugar. She straightened herself up and backed towards the door, so close she felt the handle against her back.

  “Kylie, could you come up to the front please?” Lachlan asked. His tone was pleasant, but there was an edge to him. He looked through her rather than at her.

  “Me?” she said, aware that all eyes were on her.

  “Aye, I need you to take notes please, on the whiteboard.”

  She exhaled and made her way past her colleagues. It was a tight squeeze, and when she reached the front, she had to stand right next to him. He handed her a marker. She felt an electric jolt as his hand touched hers. She wanted to jump away but she couldn’t. Was he finding this as awkward as she was? Somehow, she didn’t think so.

  They were all talking about ways to make the library more efficient by which they meant save money. She stood at the whiteboard and attempted to write down the suggestions as people called them out. There were so many of them it was hard to keep up.

  “We must tackle bureaucracy,” Marc Peters said. He had walked in just after her and was now leaning against the cabinets at the back.

  Kylie swallowed. “Bureaucracy,” she repeated, scrawling a ‘b’ on the whiteboard. She scrawled a ‘u’ and an ‘r’ then paused, unsure what came next.

  “Hurry up,” Muriel admonished her. “We haven’t got all day.”

  Kylie stared at the whiteboard, hoping for inspiration but the rest of the word did not come.

  “Here, I’ll do it,” Lachlan said, snatching the marker from her hand. Once again, she felt a small jolt and a flash of something she couldn’t quite hold on to. It was happening again.

  Blinking back tears, she edged back towards the door and this time she made it out of the room. The library was dead quiet, but even so she felt stifled by the artificial air, and a need clawed at her insides. Running past the shelves, she tore outside into the cool sunshine. She gasped like a fish out of water and waited for her heart to still. What was wrong with her? It was just a meeting, wasn’t it? She ought to be able to get through one lousy meeting. Even if Lachlan was being an arse.

  She found her trolley and worked with a vengeance, flying up and down the aisles, slotting the books back into their rightful places. She worked until her arms screamed with pain, the physical exertion calming her nerves. She kept going until she was exhausted, and by the time she stopped for her break, it was long overdue.

  The staff room door was open. She peered inside. There was no sign of Lachlan, thank god. As she walked towards the fridge, Shona looked up from her paper.

  “You shagged him, didn’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Lachlan. Come on, last week you were all over each other, and now you can’t even be in the same room.”

  She winked profusely and Marc Peters went the colour of beetroot.

  “I…I…”

  Kylie didn’t know how to respond. She and Shona weren’t close. Certainly not close enough for her to confide in. And certainly not in the middle of the staff room where anyone could hear. Lachlan himself appeared in the doorway at that moment, and everyone gawped at him. Kylie took herself off into the corner and prayed that Shona would shut her trap. Lachlan drank his tea quietly at the table without so much as a glance in her direction which only added fuel to the fire.

  On the way home from work, Kylie stopped at Pets at Home to pick up some supplies for Dexter. She had always enjoyed visiting pet shops even when she was a little girl and had no pets of her own. She flew around the store, heaping a bed, a bowl, and a big sack of dog food into her trolley. She should get some of the wet food too. She winced as the cashier rang up her purchases. This was going to cost her an arm and a leg, but it was totally worth it. Dexter was safe now and he was hers.

  Craig and Flora were out on the balcony when she arrived home.

  “Having a quick gin blossom before work,” Flora said. “You want one?”

  “No thanks, I’ll be heading out again in a minute. I need to walk Dexter.”

  Flora shot a look at Craig and he shifted in his seat.

  “What?” Kylie asked.

  “He’s not called Dexter,” Flora said.

  “Uh?”

  “The dog. He’s called Rebus. I saw a poster up in town. His owner wants him back, Kylie. You can’t keep him
.”

  8

  “Oh, I’m keeping him,” Kylie said.

  “Kylie!”

  Without listening to another word, she stomped up the stairs and unlocked the door to her flat. Dexter greeted her with a happy dance, jumping up and down and then trotting around her again and again.

  “Did you miss me, boy?”

  She stroked the silky soft fur on his head, then leaned forward and clipped on his lead. “Don’t worry, he won’t be able to find you here. You’re safe as houses with me.”

  Dexter cocked one ear as if he understood what she was saying.

  “You ready for a walk? Of course you are. Come on, boy.”

  She took him down to the sea where the beach glowed with golden light. She watched as he splashed in the water, then shook out his coat as they raced along the dunes. The walk seemed further on their return and she carried him back up the hill. The sky took on a bluish tinge then, the trees forming dark shadows along the road. She held him tight until her house came into sight, her keys tight in her fist as she walked towards the door. Flora would probably be at work by now, but she could hear Craig’s music coming from the flat upstairs, and there were repetitive thuds that suggested he was working out.

  She took care to lock the outer door behind her and almost tripped over Sinister who was curled up at the foot of the stairs. Her flat was silent as she let herself in, her breakfast bowl still waiting for her in the sink. She put on the kettle to make noodles and filled Dexter and Sinister’s bowls with the food she had bought. She refilled their water too, even though Sin never touched hers, preferring to drink from the tap. Her noodles were mushy, and the sauce was as bland as baby food, but she had spent the last of her money on Dexter. They would have to do her until payday.