He mulled over the possibilities for doing something like this with Amaryllis instead of with Caroline. It could be interesting - although with Amaryllis as a companion you never knew if things would get a bit too interesting.
'I need to ask you to forgive me,' said Caroline slowly. 'Then I'll be able to move on. The therapist says so, anyway.'
'That's ridiculous! Why should people have to go to the bother of forgiving each other all the time? Then you'd have to forgive people for forgetting to forgive you, or for not forgiving you, and life would just be one big round of forgiveness and counter-forgiveness!'
He marched on ahead.
'He said you might say something like that,' came a small voice from behind him.
For God's sake! How was he supposed to put up with all this?
'OK, I forgive you. Is that the right thing to say?'
She caught up with him, swinging the ridiculous bag at her side. 'Only if you mean it.'
'Yes, I mean it!' he snapped.
There was a pause.
'Would you like me to give you his phone number?' she said quietly.
'Whose phone number?'
'The therapist. He said you might need a couple of sessions to address any unresolved issues.'
'I don't have any - ' he began crossly.
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her.
'I'm sorry, Caroline. I didn't mean to snap at you. Let's see if we can get on a bit better this time. I don't know what you want to get out of this week's expedition, but that's what I'd like.'
She ran towards him again, arms outstretched. He held her at arm's length. 'That's enough hugging for now. Come on, we can make it to Inverkeithing and then we'll have a cup of tea somewhere.'
She nodded. They continued on their way, more or less in step with each other. Christopher tried not to feel hard-done-by when it started to rain. Caroline hadn't brought a waterproof, and he had to lend her his.
'Maybe we should get to some shops and buy you a few extra things,' he suggested.
'No, won't that hold us up? I want to get on with the walk.'
At a café in Inverkeithing High Street, they sat by the window and watched the rain together. That was companionable enough. Maybe they should just have settled for a brief meeting on neutral territory, Christopher thought, and not gone for the full week's enforced togetherness.
Chapter 4 The need for speed
'So what do you do?' said the tall, very upright man who sat opposite her on a hard chair. He sounded almost like the Queen, thought Maisie Sue, giving him the once-over: a bit old for her, and too skinny. She wouldn't be proud to be seen with him as she had been with Pearson. She stifled a sigh.
A bell rang.
'So nice to talk to you,' said the tall thin man, getting up and giving a small bow. He had written his name on one of the name-badges they were all supposed to wear, but his writing was so tiny she hadn't been able to read it. Or maybe she needed glasses. She sighed again, this time not bothering to suppress it.
'Hey,' said Jock McLean, sitting down opposite her with an aggressive thump. 'No need for that just yet - I could be very interesting for all you know.'
He managed to give the words a suggestive tone that made his usual gnome-like appearance rather unpleasant and sinister.
She sighed again. 'Hi there, Mr McLean. I sure didn't expect to see you here.'
He leaned towards her and lowered his voice. 'Somebody told me there'd be free drinks. But there's been no sign of that. It's false pretences.'
He sat back again, glowering. Everyone's going to think he's glowering because of something I've said, thought Maisie Sue in a panic.
'Maybe we have to work a while for our refreshments,' she said. 'There's no such thing as a free lunch, is there?'
'What happened to that quilting group you used to go around with?' he asked suddenly.
'We don't really meet up any more. Some of the ladies moved away. It reached the end of its natural life, I guess.'
The conversation stalled. They sat in silence for a moment as people all around them desperately tried to engage each other's interest with sparkling wit and repartee. Maisie Sue overheard the tall thin man saying earnestly, 'That must be so interesting. I wish I could crochet.' She was well rid of him anyway.
'Have you ever been to the States?' she said. It was one of the conversational gambits she had thought up right back at the start of the evening, when Sean and his sisters had given them advice about what to talk about.
'Certainly not!' said Jock McLean. He glared even more sternly if anything. 'Have you ever been to the Gorbals?'
She didn't believe that was a gambit he had been rehearsing.
'Well, I guess not,' she said. 'Is it nice there?'
She willed the bell to ring again so that he would move on to another victim.
'Not as nice as Pitkirtly,' he said suddenly with a smile that appeared almost genuine. He leaned forward again. 'Amaryllis said she might come along tonight - have you seen her?'
It would have been impossible to miss someone as striking as Amaryllis in a room this size, but Maisie Sue didn't want to bring back Jock's glower by pointing that out.
'Amaryllis?' she said instead. 'You think this is her kind of thing?'
'Definitely not,' said Jock. 'But she does like to know everything that's going on around here. I'm surprised at her missing out.'
The bell rang. Maisie Sue was relieved to see Jock moving on. She glanced up to find out who the next man would be. At that moment there was a kind of scuffle by the entrance, and everyone turned to look at the newcomer.
'I told you,' said Jock McLean, leaning over his next victim to tap Maisie Sue on the arm.
'Sorry, everyone,' said Amaryllis, not sounding a bit sorry. 'Sorry I'm late - I had a bit of trouble with some of my American cousins. But I've sorted them out now.'
There was a sudden burst of laughter and chatter. Maisie Sue hunched down in her chair, embarrassed by mention of Americans. Of course, almost everyone else in the room would assume Amaryllis had been joking, but Maisie Sue had a horrible feeling she hadn't been.
'Hello, Maisie Sue,' boomed Dave, who had appeared opposite her while she wasn't looking. 'How are you this evening?'
She wanted to ask him what he was doing there. Surely he and Jemima hadn't split up? But he didn't seem heart-broken enough, and she had seen them together going into the Golden Peach only a few days before.
'Is Jemima with you?' she asked, hoping it wasn't the wrong question and wondering what she would do if he burst into tears or started to rend his clothing or exhibit any other sign of unbearable grief.
'Oh, yes, she's over there!' he said, waving a hand in some direction or another. 'It was her idea to come along. Said she'd never tried speed-dating, and this would be her last chance. Hmph! It will if I have anything to do with it. Happiness Club, indeed. We could be at home playing Scrabble. Eating some of Jemima's tablet. Having a bit of a cuddle.'
Desperate to interrupt him before his train of thought steamed off into places she really didn't want to go, she plunged into speech.
'I'm planning to join the club and take part in some of the other events. Are you and Jemima planning to do that too?'
To her relief, he shook his head. 'We only came along tonight because it was free. This kind of thing's all very well for young people like you, footloose and fancy free. Jemima and I are happy enough as we are - we don't need to look for anybody else.'
'I guess that's a wise decision,' said Maisie Sue. 'To be truthful, I'm missing Pearson a lot, and I need something to take my mind off it.'
'No wonder, lass,' said Dave, leaning forward and patting her hand. 'Just don't be too hasty, that's all.'
'Too hasty?'
'You can't be too careful when it comes to men,' he said rather mysteriously.
The bell rang.
'You've all done very well.' Sean's voice rose above the chatter, quietening everyone down for a few moments. 'Let
's have a bit of a break now. Feel free to mingle. Back to work in twenty minutes.'
He was quite right, it was work, Maisie Sue reflected as they headed for the counter where Dee and Dilly were now serving teas and coffees. She thought of herself as a sociable person; even the loss of Pearson hadn't really made a dent in her self-confidence. But she had found herself struggling for something to say to the five men who had introduced themselves so far. Of course the unexpected encounter with Jock McLean hadn't helped at all. For the first time she wondered if Pitkirtly society was big enough, diverse enough to provide whatever she needed. Maybe she should think about going further afield. Spreading her net a little. She blushed at her own thoughts: she didn't like to think of herself as predatory but some people might see her in that light.
Dave, Jemima, Amaryllis and Jock McLean were clustered together a little way from the counter. They had taken over a little table and acquired a plate of cookies. Collectively the group of friends looked fairly gloomy. Maisie Sue wondered if it was because Christopher wasn't around. Was he the one who usually cheered them up? It seemed odd, since he wasn’t exactly dynamic and extrovert. Maybe it was just that they all seemed cheerful compared to him, then? She collected a cup of coffee and joined them.
‘Have a Bourbon,’ said Jemima Stevenson, passing her the cookie plate.
‘Why, that’s real neighbourly of you, Jemima,’ said Maisie Sue, taking one. She didn’t usually indulge in cookies, which she knew were called biscuits here, but it was a special occasion – in a way. ‘Thank you… Where’s Christopher this evening?’
‘He’s away,’ said Amaryllis shortly.
‘I think he’s gone on a walking trip with his sister,’ said Jemima.
‘Oh, I didn’t know he had a sister?’ said Maisie Sue.
‘Of course, you probably didn’t know about all the fuss,’ said Jemima.
‘I don’t think Christopher would want us to talk about it,’ said Amaryllis with a glare.
Maisie Sue was surprised by how grumpy Amaryllis seemed this evening. She had never exactly been a model of conventional politeness, but lately when they had bumped into each other at Cosy Clicks or at the shops, Amaryllis had shown a kindly interest in Maisie Sue’s visa plight, and had even offered to get some documents forged for Maisie Sue in Thailand the next time she was over there. Of course Maisie Sue wouldn’t have dreamed of taking up an offer like that. No, she wanted to stay in the UK fairly and without taking any shortcuts. Marrying a UK citizen seemed like the least underhand way of getting permanent residence and never again having to face Pearson’s mother’s scorn at her inability to make an acceptable apple-pie.
‘Funny,’ said Dave, looking over their heads into the far corner of the room. ‘That looks like whats-her-name. What’s she doing here?’
Jemima stood on tiptoe to have a look. ‘Penelope Johnstone!’ she exclaimed. ‘I thought she was married.’
‘She’s got an absentee husband,’ said Amaryllis. ‘He only comes home on alternate weekends to take Zak to the gun club.’
How like Amaryllis to know all that! Maisie Sue didn’t know how she did it, and without employing any of the normal social skills either. Maybe it was her spying background. Or the way she wandered around town at night. Maisie Sue and Pearson had bumped into her on several occasions when they had been out for a late-evening walk – back in the good days before Pearson’s betrayal.
Maisie Sue sighed again.
'She's getting quite friendly with that Sean Fraser,' said Dave critically.
'He's likely spotted her looking like a fish out of water and taken pity on her,' said Jemima.
'Has anybody finished with their cup here?' said Dee, or perhaps it was Dilly, suddenly appearing with a tray just behind Jock McLean.
How had she sneaked up on them so quietly? Maisie Sue glanced at the woman's feet to see if she had on these flat pumps that always seemed too flimsy for the climate around here. But she seemed to be wearing plain court shoes with medium heel, completely suitable for her rôle as member of staff at this event.
The woman was glaring at them, for no apparent reason. Maisie Sue decided on a minor charm offensive. She smiled as she handed over her coffee mug and said,
'Thank you so much - that was a real nice cup of coffee. Now tell me, are you Dilly or Dee? Mr Fraser told me he had two sisters.'
The woman scowled even more fiercely.
'I'm Dee,' she snapped, turned on her heel and stalked off back towards the counter.
'Oh, my - was it something I said?' asked Maisie Sue, puzzled but willing to believe she had infringed some local taboo. She had found Pitkirtly folks could be very subtle in their social dealings, and it was easy to offend someone without intending to.
'I don't think so,' said Amaryllis, staring after Dee Fraser. 'It's not you, it's her. Something's biting her.'
'Hope it's not fleas,' said Jock McLean cheerfully. 'Did they give this place a good clean out before they opened it? That old café used to be a real tip.'
Maisie Sue watched as Dee dumped the tray on the counter and spoke to Dilly. Seeing them together, she could tell that Dee was a little taller and thinner than her sister, and her brown hair a little darker and straighter. Dilly looked like she would be the pleasanter of the two. But what could you tell from outward appearance, after all?
Sean strode into the middle of their little group. ‘Come on, people, we can’t have this! I gather you all know each other – but we need you to get out there and meet new people! That’s the whole point. Mingle, just mingle!’
‘Well!’ said Jemima indignantly after he had gone. ‘If he’s going to be like that, we might as well go home! I didn’t come here to mingle with a lot of complete strangers.’
‘Let’s go then, Jemima,’ said Dave. ‘We’ve seen what speed-dating’s like now – there’s no shame in admitting it isn’t for us.’
He got Mrs Stevenson’s coat and escorted her to the door, saying goodbye to people on the way. What a nice man, thought Maisie Sue. We should all have somebody like Dave to look after us.
‘I don’t think Jemima’s got the point of speed-dating,’ said Jock, gazing after them.
Amaryllis was looking in the other direction. ‘Oh – my – God!’ she exclaimed.
‘What?’ said Jock.
‘Isn’t that Chief Inspector Smith over there – just in front of Penelope?’
Jock and Maisie Sue both looked.
‘There,’ said Amaryllis, indicating a man in a dark green cardigan and jeans. ‘What’s he up to?’
‘He doesn’t have to be up to anything,’ Jock pointed out. ‘He’s entitled to a social life just the same as we are.’
‘He wouldn’t be here without some ulterior motive,’ said Amaryllis darkly. But although she seemed shocked, Maisie Sue noticed that she actually seemed to be reinvigorated by the appearance of this man – presumably a police officer with whom she and Jock had crossed swords in the past. Maybe she had a secret soft spot for him. Maybe Christopher had better watch out. This could be interesting.
Chapter 5 Distant Cousins
Amaryllis had been irritated but not altogether surprised to find two men from the CIA on her doorstep earlier in the evening. They had already worked out who had hacked into Pearson MacPherson’s employment records and set a flag that meant he owed them fifty-nine million dollars, which was to be deducted from his salary at a rate of a thousand dollars a month for the next umpteen million years.
On reflection, it had been rather a childish thing to do. The only thing that cheered her up was the fact that they hadn’t yet discovered the second hack she had done. She was sort of hoping they wouldn’t track it back to her though.
They had made her late for the Happiness Club by rambling on about trust and responsibility and what they would do if she ever set foot in the USA again. She wasn’t scared. She knew if they really meant it, they would just have shot her and left the British security services to clean up the mess, or abducted her
and smuggled her back to the States for trial. On balance, she preferred the long lecture and the attempt to make her feel remorse.
She was glad she had the speed-dating event to go to. At worst it would be boring and a waste of time, but she was hoping for better. Surely something bizarre and interesting would happen there.
It was beyond her wildest dreams to see Inspector Smith. Up to then she had wondered, like Jemima and Dave, if it was worth even being there. Now she had started to plan how to wind him up.
'Don't you do anything silly, now,' Jock McLean warned her. 'Christopher wouldn't like it.'
'Never mind Christopher - he isn't even here,' she muttered. She noticed Maisie Sue staring at her with a speculative look in her eyes. For goodness' sake, didn't the woman have enough romantic issues of her own, without poking her nose into someone else's? Not that there was anything romantic about the relationship between her and Christopher, of course. And as for Inspector Smith - perish the thought, squire!
'Have you heard from the immigration people yet?' she demanded of Maisie Sue. The woman cringed back as if Amaryllis had hit her - which might well happen one of those days.
'Yes,' said Maisie Sue nervously. 'There was lots of small print? You know? But I guess it'll work out fine in the end. What do you Brits say? It'll all come out in the wash?'
'I've never been quite sure if coming out in the wash is a good thing or a bad thing,' said Amaryllis. She had been watching Inspector Smith as they spoke, and was poised ready to spring into action when everyone sat back down for the second attempt at speed-dating. 'Do the men move round or the women? Or both?' she asked Jock.
'Search me,' he said. 'I wasn't paying much attention. I only came here because there was nothing on the telly and I thought there might be free drinks. I'd have been better going down to the Queen of Scots.'
4 Death at the Happiness Club Page 3