by M C Beaton
♦
Lochdubh began to prepare for Christmas. Fairy lights were strung from the cottages to the standard lamps on the waterfront. Christmas trees appeared in cottage windows, fake Christmas trees. There were fir trees all over the surrounding hills but the housewives of Lochdubh did not want the business of vacuuming pine needles from their carpets and so there were plastic trees of silver and gold and of an improbable green.
Archie Macleod had a bright green plastic tree in his garden and was decorating it with Christmas lights as Hamish stopped for a chat.
“Not allowed to have the thing indoors, Archie?” said Hamish sympathetically.
“No, herself would neffer allow a Christmas tree but I am having this one this year. A man must take a stand sometime, Hamish.”
Hamish grinned and moved on. He quickened his pace as he passed the Currie sisters’ cottage, not wanting to be waylaid. The Currie sisters alone did not have any Christmas decorations, following the old Scottish Calvinistic belief that Christmas decorations were sinful.
He then went into Patel’s store to see if there was anything he could pick up for Christmas presents for his family in Rogart to save him a journey to Strathbane. The shop smelled of Christmas pudding and spices. He could not see anything suitable and resigned himself to the thought of a trip to Strathbane.
When he walked back to the police station, he found Jimmy Anderson waiting for him.
“I’ve brought the stuff this time,” said Jimmy, clutching two carrier bags. Hamish let him into the kitchen. Jimmy put a large turkey on the table and two bottles of whisky. “Least I could do, Hamish,” he said. “Blair tried to spoil things for me over Cody’s suicide but the super pointed out I’d done a smart bit of work and couldn’t be blamed for something the desk sergeant was guilty of. Mind you, the super’s pretty sure it was your doing but I’ve got a good success on my record and I’ll hae Blair’s job out from under his fat arse or my name isn’t Jimmy Anderson.”
“I tell you, Blair’s on the wagon these days and he’s like a bear with a sore bum.”
“Has he joined AA?”
“Do you mean the Automobile Association or Alcoholics Anonymous?”
“Alcoholics Anonymous.”
“Naw, his doctor recommended it but Blair said he wasnae going to be seen dead with a lot of God botherers.”
“Lucky for you,” said Hamish.
“Why?”
“Och, it is just that the folks who go to AA in Strathbane seem to put down the drink and take up success like ducks to water.”
“Jings, you’re right. Archie Pattock, the town drunk, him what used to be in rags and vomit, used to go about saying he was an electronics engineer, well the AA’s got hold o’ him and now he’s working for one o’ those big places over in Tayside and it turns out he was an electronics engineer right enough. Got a big car. Oh, my, I just pray Blair never gets to one o’ their damn meetings. And talking of AA, what about us opening one o’ these bottles?”
♦
After Jimmy had left, Hamish went out again. A blazing sunset was going down over the hills and mountains. The loch was pink and gold. The fairy lights twinkled on along the length of the waterfront.
He stood breathing in the evening air scented with pine and felt at peace with the world.
And then as he looked along the waterfront, he saw Priscilla standing there, looking out at the loch. She was wearing a Christmas-red woolen coat and a tartan scarf. The lights shone on the golden bell of her hair.
Then she turned as if aware of his presence.
For one long moment, Hamish Macbeth and Priscilla Halburton-Smythe stared at each other down the length of the waterfront From the church, children’s voices were singing ‘Come All Ye Faithful.’
Then Priscilla turned on her heel and walked away, got into her car and drove off.
Hamish Macbeth was not to be forgiven.
FB2 document info
Document ID: 08fdbb41-a174-4d97-af9c-22ee2acc961e
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 16.12.2012
Created using: calibre 0.9.9, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
M.C. Beaton
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