'My God, nobody's called me Maggot for years,' Magda exclaimed, laughter bubbling under. 'Not even Wheelie. But what are you doing here? Is this a surprise for me? Did Ma invite you?'
Not bloody likely, I thought but didn't say. 'I'm here for a conference,' I told Magda. 'I had no idea about… all this,' I added, my voice cracking unexpectedly. Without conscious thought, we'd both moved a step forward. There were less than a dozen inches between us. I could smell something sharp and spicy on Magda's skin, like lime and cinnamon. I could even see the dilated pupils of her eyes. My stomach hurt.
'Jesus, Jay,' Magda said, her voice bewildered and tense. 'I wish to God you'd come back before this.'
'Me too,' I croaked. I wondered if my face mirrored Magda's mixture of awe, confusion, fear and wonder. 'Better late than never?' I asked. It felt like a plea, a prayer, a supplication.
'I got married this afternoon.' It sounded like a confession.
'Sorry. I should have offered my congratulations.'
'Oh Christ, what have I done?' Magda's voice was low and angry.
Suddenly, I felt afraid. The emotions dancing around us were too powerful, like live cables snaking across the floor, sparking and threatening. I took a step backwards. I did not want to walk that way again. I could see something opening before my feet and it looked more like a pit than a path.The last time, I'd sworn it would be the last time. 'Good luck, Maggot. It was good to see you,' I said, pulling down the shutters behind my eyes.
'Wait,' Magda cried. 'You can't just go. I've only just found you again.'
'It's your wedding day, Magda. There's a marquee full of people waiting for you.' Don't make me feel this, Magda. Please, was what I thought.
'Meet me later,' Magda said urgently, her hand reaching out and gripping my wrist. 'Meet me later, Jay. Please? Just so we can catch up? Swap addresses?'
'I'm not sure that's a good idea,' I said, dry-mouthed at the touch of her. I'd never felt the way I was feeling right then, never anything so instant, so terrifying.
Magda grinned, an open, unselfconscious beam of generous mirth. 'Of course it's not a good idea,' she said. 'But I'm the bride. You're supposed to humour me.'
I was hooked. 'Give me a time and a place.'
Magda frowned, as if calculating something. 'Nine o'clock? The far end of the meadow? You know the old boathouse? It's virtually fallen down now, but if you go round the blind side, no one can see you.'
So saying, she let me know that she understood that any meeting involving me was something no one should see.That was fine by me. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation with the mother of the bride. 'I'll be there,' I said, wondering even as I spoke whether I'd taken leave of my senses.
'Promise?'
'I promise.'
Magda's smile lit her up like a beacon. 'Till then,' she said, moving round me, still holding my wrist. Then her mouth was on mine.
It wasn't the sort of kiss a new bride should give anyone except her husband.
And then Magda was gone, just as suddenly as I had been excised from her life all those years before.
Writing it brought it all back in its immediacy. Jay could feel the shivery suddenness of it all, the bewildering baffle of emotions she didn't expect to experience in a ladies' toilet in Schollie's, of all places. And Magda's reaction. Still it blew her away to remember the look on Magda's face as all the pieces of her personal jigsaw finally fell into place. It was the kind of moment that happens in movies and musicals, not in real life. Or so she'd thought.
Until it had happened to her.
It had been a beginning. Standing by the sink in the ladies' toilets, Jay felt like she'd been sandbagged. But that was just the start. There were still miles to go before she would sleep.
2
Driving to from Glasgow to Skye on a sunny day was one of the more visually spectacular experiences of Charlie's life. Mountains and water, conifers and bracken, tiny communities dotted randomly on the landscape and — the icing on the cake — driving over the bridge across the Atlantic to the island itself. It was all picture-book perfect. The sort of experience that made the most hardened urbanite long for the simple life. Charlie understood herself well enough to know that she'd go crazy in a week, but for the duration of the long glamorous drive it was possible to enjoy the fantasy. It didn't hurt that she had Maria there to share the driving. But enjoying her partner's company didn't stop the perpetual consciousness that there was another woman absorbing her attention. What was it Lisa had said in her last email? Perhaps the clear island air will help you clear your heart. You can't move forward until you know what's past and what's coming with you on the journey. Sometimes things are only attractive because we know in our hearts we can't have them. I want you to be sure about all the possible consequences of your choices, Charlie. Some things there's no going back from.
As usual, Lisa's words left Charlie with more questions than answers. Was it all a game, or was it a series of tests designed to help Charlie draw out the right answers from inside herself? Whatever was going on, she needed to stop dithering. It was beyond unfair to Maria, who didn't even know her future was in the balance. Charlie had no instinct for cruelty and she was uncomfortable with what Lisa called the possible consequences of her choices. But Lisa was like a fever in her blood. The trouble was, Charlie didn't know whether she wanted to resist or to succumb.
They stopped to eat in Fort William, Maria leaving Charlie to finish her meal alone so she could have a quick walk round the town. She came back as excited as a small child. 'It's so different, ' she said. 'Why have we never come to the proper Highlands before?'
'We went skiing at Aviemore one year,' Charlie said.
'That's not proper, though. Skiing, you could be anywhere as long as the snow's half-decent. But this place is lovely. We need to do this sort of thing more often.'
'What? Spend two days driving on crappy roads to have one day on a Scottish island interrogating mountain men?' Charlie wasn't quite sure whether she was pretending to be curmudgeonly or if her grumpiness was genuine. Maria was right, though. There was something special about moving through this landscape, even if the reason for their trip was unusual.
'You're loving it,' Maria said. 'And it's your turn to drive. Once you're behind the wheel, you'll be too busy enjoying the challenge to complain about the crappy roads. Come on, let's go.'
Charlie thought it would be hard to beat the grandeur of the Great Glen, the hump-backed whale of Ben Nevis on their right as they drove up the lochside. But when she saw the Skye Bridge, she had to recalibrate her scale of breathtaking. Sleek, elegant and somehow organic, it had the wow factor. Beyond, the dark ridge of the Cuillins was outlined.
'How could you drive through all of this knowing you were going to kill someone?' Maria said. 'I mean, it's knockout, isn't it? It makes me feel insignificant. How can you experience all this and feel that your concerns are important enough to kill for?'
Charlie sighed. 'Not everybody has that reaction. Some people see the landscape almost as a challenge. "You might be big and you might be here long after I'm gone, but I'm going to make my mark too, just you watch".'
'Why couldn't she just kill her someplace ugly? Make it look like a mugging?'
'Because she's clever enough to know that the police are not stupid. Smart guys like Nick are trained to tell the difference between a real mugging and a fake one. If Jay had formed the intention of killing Kathy Lipson, it was a clever move to bring her to a place where there's so much lethal potential. People die on the Scottish mountains every year. Some of them from inexperience, arrogance and stupidity. But for some of them, it's just bad luck. Either way, you're dealing with a system that's predisposed to see accident rather than design.'
Maria nodded. 'So you're saying that Jay took advantage of the psychological environment as well as the physical one?'
'It looks that way.'
'It's a bit chancy, isn't it? I mean, a lot of things had to come together for it to
work. The weather conditions, Kathy agreeing to such a potentially dangerous climb, there not being anybody else around.'
Charlie slowed as they crossed the Atlantic. 'We're actually driving over a finger of an ocean now. How amazing is that?' They were both silent for as long as it took them to reach land again. 'It wasn't as chancy as you might think,' she said. 'I managed to track down the Fatal Accident Inquiry online. There was a list of witnesses, the mountain rescue guys, so I was able to track a couple of them down. The Scottish court records system is amazing. Open access to all sorts of stuff-'
'Never mind that,' Maria interrupted. 'What do you mean, it wasn't chancy?'
'Her father gave evidence at the inquiry, and he talked about how experienced she was. She'd climbed in the Alps, in the Rockies, in the Andes. She'd done ice climbing before, and she'd always talked about doing the winter traverse of the Cuillins. So if Jay wanted to set her up, it was handed to her on a plate. If anything, Jay was the less experienced climber in winter conditions. Where she nearly got seriously unlucky was in getting hurt herself.'
'If she really did get hurt,' Maria said. 'She didn't break anything, did she?'
'No, she tore the ligaments in her knee.'
Maria snorted. 'It's easy to make out that a soft tissue injury's a lot worse than it really is.'
Charlie grinned. 'You're starting to sound like Corinna.'
'Well, the more you tell me about these so-called accidental deaths, the more unlikely they sound.'
'But there's no proof. It's all very suggestive, but there's nothing I can take to the cops and say, "Look, here's incontrovertible evidence that somebody committed murder." And without that, it's just a slander action waiting to happen.' Her voice trailed off as she tried to make sense of the sat-nav. 'I think I have to go left here,' she said.
Maria took the printed instructions out of the glove box. 'Yes. Then after four miles you turn right and the hotel's on the left.' She looked across the empty landscape of machair and rock. 'I'm starting to understand why she could expect to be undisturbed up there. The only things with a pulse are the sheep.'
'Yeah. Apparently some of the routes up here get busy, but only in the summer months. In the winter it's not hard to be alone in the Cuillins.'
'See, that's why I like walking, not climbing,' Maria said. 'Less opportunity to get shoved off a precipice if you get bored with me.'
Charlie forced a laugh. 'As if.'
'As if you'd shove me, or as if you'd get bored?'
'Both,' Charlie said firmly. And it was true. That was the worst of it. She wasn't bored with Maria. Just then she saw a signboard for the hotel. 'There it is,' she said. 'Glenbrittle Lodge Hotel.'
They turned off the single-track road towards a low stone building that sprawled across the flat bottom of a glen flanked on both sides by slopes of grey scree. Its slate roof and broad gables gleamed in the late afternoon light. 'It's amazing how many shades of grey and green there are,' Charlie said as they approached.
'Almost as many as there are shades of teeth,' Maria said. 'You'd be amazed at the colour chart for crowns and veneers.'
By the time they made it to their room, they were both charmed by the hotel. As they'd drawn up alongside the half-dozen cars already there, a young man in work boots, a kilt and a ghillie shirt had emerged and insisted on carrying their bags into a wood-panelled reception area where a log fire crackled and hissed in a deep stone fireplace. A decanter and glasses sat on the checkin desk, and before they could protest, they each had a whisky in hand. 'This started life as a hunting lodge,' the young man said, his accent revealing that wherever he was a local, it wasn't here. 'We kept the traditional feel as much as possible. We're pretty quiet this weekend, so we've upgraded you to the Sligachan suite. It's got a view right up the glen towards the Cuillin. I think you'll like it.'
He was right. Maria surveyed the bedroom with its kingsize four-poster and subdued tartan fabrics while Charlie checked out the marble and painted porcelain of the bathroom. 'Wow,' Maria said, crossing to the window and checking out the view. 'This is lovely, Charlie.' She swung round as Charlie came back into the room. 'Come here.' She opened her arms and Charlie stepped into her embrace, losing herself momentarily in familiarity, wishing this oddly tender moment could expand to push out any other thoughts or feelings. Maria nuzzled her ear. 'When was the last time we did something this romantic?' she whispered.
Charlie chuckled. 'What? Tried to nail a serial killer? I can't think.'
Maria laughed, pushing her away. 'Kill the moment, why don't you? So, what's the plan for this evening?'
'It would be good to see if any of the staff were around ten years ago. I was hoping for an aged retainer. Maybe the barman will be more of a relic. But right now, I want a bath and a nap before dinner.' She twitched one corner of her mouth in a half-smile. 'You could join me if you wanted?'
Maria didn't need asking twice. And if Charlie's mind slipped sideways a couple of times in what followed, she didn't think Maria noticed. There were worse sins, and she hadn't committed them yet, after all.
It was almost eight before they made their way down to the restaurant, another panelled room with beautifully laid tables gleaming with silver and crystal. Only two tables were occupied and the waiter seated them on the other side of the room so they had a sense of privacy. The mood between them was relaxed and intimate. Charlie felt less tense than she had for weeks. She picked up the menu and made her choices quickly. Then she looked around properly for the first time, shifting slightly so she could check out the other tables while Maria was still frowning over the possibilities.
It was as well that Charlie didn't have a mouthful of food or drink or she would have choked. At first, she couldn't believe her eyes. But there was no mistake. Across the room, two women were leaning across their table towards each other, talking animatedly in low voices. The younger woman, an unexcitingly pretty blonde in a multicoloured silky shirt, was a stranger. But sitting opposite her, apparently oblivious to anyone or anything else, was Lisa Kent.
If she'd just taken a punch to the head, Charlie couldn't have been more dazed. What the fuck was going on? Lisa knew her plans. But she'd said nothing to indicate that she would be here. Yet here she was, flirting with another woman in the very restaurant where she knew Charlie and Maria would be at dinner. It beggared belief. Suddenly realising that Maria was speaking, Charlie pulled attention back to her own table. 'Sorry?'
'I said, do you think they're batting for our team,' Maria said, inclining her head towards Lisa and her dinner date.
'If not, they should be,' Charlie said mechanically. 'What are you having? Have you decided?'
Afterwards, Charlie would remember nothing of what she'd eaten or drunk, except that quite a lot of red wine was part of the deal. Judging by Maria's rave reviews, the food had been exceptional, and she must have managed to keep up her end of the conversation. But all she could think about was Lisa on the other side of the room and what her presence might mean. Was Lisa crazy? Was she trying to create some monstrous confrontation? Or worse, some bizarre girlfriend-swapping encounter group? Or could it possibly be that she was as stricken with Charlie as Charlie was with her? She hadn't allowed herself to think that way before, but it was feasible. Wasn't it? But if Lisa was drawn so powerfully to Charlie, why had she brought someone else with her? Was she trying to make Charlie jealous? If so, she'd succeeded.
The other women left the restaurant before Charlie and Maria, nodding a polite greeting in passing as one does to fellow guests in a small hotel. 'They seem friendly,' Maria said. 'Maybe they'll be in the bar afterwards.'
'I'm not sure I want another drink,' Charlie said.
'I thought the point of us being here was for you to interrogate any passing islander?' Maria's voice was teasing. 'Or have you rediscovered a better reason for whisking your beloved off to romantic hotels?'
The idea of making love with Maria while Lisa was in the same building was impossible, Charlie realis
ed. 'I think you've had the best of me,' she said. 'And you're right, of course. I shouldn't forget why we're here.' She drained her wine. 'Come on then, let's go and see if the bar staff were out of nappies when Jay and Kathy were here.'
The bar was a cosy room at the far end of the hall. Lisa and the other woman were sitting near the door, as far from the bar as possible. As they walked in, Lisa turned the full blaze of her eyes on Maria. 'Hi,' she said. 'Can I persuade you to join us for a drink? It seems silly to sit on opposite sides of the room.'
Before Charlie could refuse, Maria had already accepted the invitation. 'Thanks. I'm Maria, by the way, and this is Charlie.'
Lisa gave Charlie a welcoming smile, inclining her head. 'I'm Lisa. And this is Nadia.'
Nadia waggled her fingers at them. 'This is cool,' she said.
'Let me go and get some drinks,' Charlie muttered. 'What can I get you?'
'We're both drinking red wine.'
'I might as well get a bottle, then,' Charlie said, heading for the bar. There was nobody in sight, but a notice next to a bell push instructed her to press for service. She couldn't decide whether bewilderment or fear had the upper hand. Before anyone could respond to the bell, Lisa appeared at her side.
'I told Maria I'd help you choose,' she said.
'Are you fucking her?' It was out before Charlie could stop herself. Low and harsh, bitter and brutal.
'I could ask you the same question,' Lisa said. 'And it would be just as meaningless. We both know sex can mean everything or nothing. And we both know whatever is happening between us, it's about a lot more than sex. Smile, Charlie, Maria can probably read your body language at a hundred yards.'
Just then, the young man from reception arrived behind the bar. He grinned and said, 'Tonight I am the jack of all. What can I get you ladies?'
'We'd like a bottle of red. A Shiraz or something similar,' Charlie said.
'We like something fruity and chewy,' Lisa said with as much innuendo as a seventies comedian.
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