by Val Penny
“Timmy, these are beautiful! What have I done to deserve these?”
“You are to be the mother of my child. Nothing is good enough for you, Lady Sophie Dalmore, but these are just a token of my love for you.”
“Oh, Timmy, they are so lovely. Thank you darling.” A tear rolled down her cheek. Tim kissed it away and wrapped his arms around her.
“Are you sure you don't have something you feel guilty about, for me to receive such beautiful flowers?” she said, trying to recover her composure.
“Certainly not, what impertinence! I hope my child will not be indoctrinated with such a lack of respect?”
She smiled. He was not making it any easier for her to break her news.
“I think we’d better eat,” she said.
“I think so too! Shall we just do a stir-fry? We have chicken pieces and veg in the fridge.” Tim unwound himself from Sophie and started to move through to the kitchen. It was not long before they were sitting down to their meal.
Tim chatted excitedly. “I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl. Not that it matters. I will take them to rugby matches, anyway. As long as the baby is healthy.”
That old platitude, she thought.
Tim did not stop talking. “Do you want to know if it is a boy or a girl before the baby is born? I don't think I do. It's exciting to have the surprise. We could paint the spare room yellow, then it wouldn't matter. It would work for either.”
Sophie sat in silence and let him talk.
As they got ready for bed, Sophie flinched as Tim fondled her belly.
“I got great news today,” she said as she pulled away from him to slip under the covers.
“More good news! We are on a roll. What now?”
“You know the dispute between the Local Councils and the Scottish Government?”
“Oh yes, even I've heard about that! You'd have to be living on Mars not to.”
“Well, the dispute is going to arbitration first, and Dad has been asked to chair the meetings.”
“No big surprise, but that is a real honour. Good on your dad.”
“Yes, the arbitration will meet in Glasgow in the Sheriff Court Building.”
“Will your dad commute or stay over during the week?”
“I think he plans to stay over. It will be less tiring.”
“True. Makes sense. I know he doesn't sit all day, but the arbitration will require intensive concentration. Will this decision affect how the Scottish Government and the Councils work together?”
“Yes. And Dad has asked me to attend with him, to act as his research assistant. It will also give me good experience and get my name known in arbitration circles. I think his idea is that, when he retires, there will be someone else in the firm who can take over this kind of important remit.”
“Wow! Your Dad is thinking ahead, isn't he? He's not even 60 yet, and most lawyers in private practice don't retire until they are 103, do they?”
Sophie playfully hit Tim with a pillow. He caught it and laughed.
“Cheeky.” She said. “Anyway, I will be back at the weekends.”
“You will be away all week too? Oh, I hadn't thought about that.”
“Of course. This is a huge opportunity for me. Dad didn't have to pick me, or anyone, but he did. I have to play it his way. You can see that, Timmy, can't you?”
“Yes, I can see that. How long will the arbitration last?”
“Weeks, possibly months.”
“I'm not sure that is going to be great for you, in your condition, Sophe. You know, there will be medical appointments and classes. Maybe you should reconsider your dad's offer?”
“Reconsider? Are you crazy?” Sophie screamed at him. “This is a unique opportunity, Tim! Really, reconsider? Maybe I should reconsider being with you!”
For the second night in a row, neither Tim nor Sophie slept.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Frankie got home from working at Thomson's Top Cars showroom. He did not like Mr Mansoor, but the money came in handy. It would be even more useful when he had to provide for his family. He flushed with pride. I should ask for a full-time job when I leave school in June, he thought.
Right now, he planned to have a quick bite to eat and go over to the hospital. He was going to speak to the consultant today. He needed to get himself ready for the inevitable. He was deep in thought when he opened the door and stepped into the house.
“Hi, cuz! How you doing? Good of your mam to take me in while I recuperate.”
“Aw fuck, Jamie. I know, mate, but you're the last bloody thing I need right now.”
“Well that's not very nice, Frankie.” Jamie feigned hurt, but the twinkle in his eye belied that. “I'm an invalid, you know. I've got my cast and crutches and everything. Any chance of a wee cup of tea?”
“That'll be shining bright. Where's my mam anyway?”
“Don't know, really, Frankie. Said something about going over to my pop's garages to check on his cars and give the engines a run, just to keep them ticking over, I expect.”
“Thought Mansoor does that. He bosses me about enough whenever I am at the showroom to make me think he does.”
“No, not the business cars. I mean my pop's own cars up at his garages on Orchardhead Lane. You know?”
“He still got those? I forgot. Okay. Anyway, I'm off for a quick shower and to clean my face, like Annie showed me. Then I'm going to see her. It's getting harder to know what to say to her. The nurse says she doesn't have long till they get the babies out and turn off the life support.”
“Ah, man, Frankie. That's fucking gross. Poor Annie. Poor you.”
Frankie gathered himself together. He did not want to cry in front of Jamie. He would never live that down. So he turned the topic back to reality, and said to Jamie, “Will you tell Mam I'll be back for dinner?”
“Might do, if you get us a cup of tea.” Jamie smiled then pulled a face at his cousin.
“Aye, okay.” Frankie paused. “How long you here for?”
“Who knows? Till I’m better? Or until I die of thirst through a lack of a cup of tea?”
“Oh bloody hell, I'll do it! As if I didn't have enough to worry about. You know the girls are getting delivered any day now? Then I lose Annie forever. All you're worried about is a fuckin' cup of tea.”
“Thanks cuz, I knew I could count on you,” Jamie grinned. “Nice comfy chairs and great sound system your mam's put in here. She just got it since your pop died?”
“Aye, she wasn't slow getting it on the never-never. She plans to pay it off when Pop's money comes through. It's the only thing she's done quick in years!”
Jamie glanced up at his cousin. “Do they know who did that to Annie, yet?” he asked.
Frankie shook his head. “Not that I know. Nobody's told me. Nobody tells me anything. Who would do that to Annie? She is so lovely. She never teased me about my spots or nothing. And she is so pretty. Isn't she?”
“You seem more upset about Annie than your old man, Frankie. And she's not even dead.”
“Yet.”
“It's a bit strange to me, though. I'd have thought losing your pop was worse. For you, anyway. Mind you, he was an old bastard to my old man. Dropped him right in it over that robbery.”
“If you think losing my pop was worse than losing Annie, then you didn't know Annie or my pop. You should've heard him when he found out Annie was preggers with my babies. Anyhow, Mam's doing enough mourning – and moaning – for both of us. Pop pissed off Harry so bad, I don't even know if he's coming back for the funeral. Says something when you'd rather be in Afghanistan, doesn't it?”
Frankie went onto the kitchen and made a cup of tea for each of them. He handed Jamie a couple of Jaffa Cakes too.
“Good man, Frankie. Thanks. You're being a bit harsh about your folks, aren't you, my man? I mean, this is a bad time.”
“Not really! They weren't too great about Annie and me. I mean I know we're young, but Pop was giving it the big 'I am'
in front of his mates, and in private telling me I'm a fucking fool. He told me to stay away from Annie and he would sort it.” Frankie looked at Jamie. “I mean, what's to sort?”
“Has he sorted now, has he? Did one of his flunkies get Annie?”
“Who knows? I mean, all I asked was that he not tell Mam, and let me do that. But no, he couldn't even keep his big mouth shut.”
“Well, he'll not be saying much now, cuz.” Jamie licked the chocolate from his biscuit off his fingers.
“But who would hurt Annie? A pregnant lassie, Jamie?” Frankie stood up suddenly. “I'm off for my shower. I want to get out to the hospital soon as possible. You okay now?”
“Me, oh aye, I'm champion. Nice cuppa tea. Thanks.” Jamie searched for the remote control and flicked through television channels on the large screen until he found the show Pointless. Yeah, that was about right. Pointless.
Upstairs, Frankie went through the routine Annie had taught him. He cleaned his face. It was traumatised by spots. Stress. He did his best to eradicate them. Then he had a quick shower and raced off to get the bus to the hospital. He wanted time with Annie, to hold her hand, kiss her lips, smell her hair. He wanted to tell her the ideas he had for the girls' names. He wanted to pretend their future was normal.
Time with Annie was precious.
Charlie charged Joe and then he was released with his laundry. The first thing the older man checked was that he could go and visit Annie. Charlie confirmed that he could, and found him some clean clothes from lost property. They were not a perfect fit, but they smelt a lot better than his own stuff and looked better than the white paper outfit he had been wearing in the cells and around the station. But Joe immediately rummaged through the plastic bag for his old, thick coat.
When Frankie arrived at the hospital Joe was sitting by Annie's bed. The young man stood, hesitating in the doorway.
“Come in, son,” Joe said softly. “Mary-Ann told me it's twins, and they're yours.”
Frankie nodded.
“Shit,” said Joe. “This is grim. But you and Annie couldn't know. Only they two knew, and they didn't tell anybody, did they? Not until it was too late.”
Frankie frowned. He walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He sat down opposite Joe, but looked at Annie. He brushed her hair with his hand and glanced at her father before taking her hand in his.
“They think I could have killed Mary-Ann,” Joe said. “I never could.”
“I never thought that,” said Frankie. “My mam'll miss her. Mary-Ann. She did a lot for us in the house. Nobody could've worked harder to keep the place clean and tidy. Mam's not much for housework. I liked her too, Mary-Ann. She was kind, gentle, like Annie.”
“Mary-Ann was the love of my life, Frankie, lad. Truly the love of my life, but she hurt me. She hurt me so bad. That last time I saw her, she told me terrible, terrible things, Frankie. D'you know what she said?”
“No. How could I?” He stroked Annie's hair. “Don't say anything to upset Annie, Mr Johnson, please.”
“She can't hear us.”
“I think she maybe can.”
“No. She doesn't know nothing now, son. More's the pity. They say the twins will have to come out soon. The scary bit starts after that.”
“Aye, because then we lose her forever. Bonnie Annie. I will care for our wee girls, you know I will. I promise.” Frankie looked straight into Joe's eyes. The promise was made as much to Joe as to Annie.
“I never really had Annie, as it happens. That's what Mary-Ann told me last time we argued. And my God, lad we argued. The red mist fell.”
“Well, Annie was her own woman, right enough.”
“That wasn't it, son. Annie wasn't mine.”
“You can't say that, Mr Johnson. That's a wicked thing to say. You're her Da, whether she's poorly or not. It'll hurt her terribly if she hears you say she's not yours.”
“That's not the point, lad. She really wasn't my daughter. Your Da was her Da. They had a fling just before me and Mary-Ann married. Your Uncle Ian found out and put his foot down with your pop for your mam. He told Billy to keep it in his trousers or your uncle would cut it off.”
“He would an' all. My pop told me this. I wasn't sure if he was just being a bastard or if it was true.”
“True as we're here, lad. Then Mary-Ann found herself up the duff. She had to find any port in a storm and I was the one she hooked. That's the long and the short of it.”
Frankie froze.
“What?”
“Your dad did tell you?”
“Aye. But I didn't believe it!” He stared at Joe in abject horror. “This is awful. My poor babies.” Later, Frankie would swear that Annie clasped his hand just a little tighter. “It means Annie was like my wee sister. That's disgusting! You can't fancy your sister.“
“But I was not her bio... bio... birth Dad,” Joe shouted. “That's the point.”
“Ssssh!”
“That's why me and Mary-Ann argued,” Joe whispered. “I never saw her after she ran away that night. Now she's dead too, and I can't tell her I'm sorry.”
Frankie shook his head. “So that's why my pop didn't want me to see Annie. I just thought he was being his usual bastard self. That's why he was so fucking angry. Oh Annie, what he said was true. But we never knew, did we?”
“But you knew she was only sixteen, Frankie,” Joe said as he walked out.
Frankie called after him, “Will it hurt the twins?”
***
Joe got the bus home but decided to get off at Bennett's Bar instead. He played dominoes for beer until he was thrown out at closing time. The pub had been really warm. Outside, it was cold. There was a drizzle of rain in the air. Joe had difficulty lighting a cigarette into the wind. Mission eventually accomplished, he headed into the dark.
Joe staggered home past the chippy. He got a bag of chips that did for dinner, again. It vaguely crossed Joe's mind that he could not live on chips all the time. Then he shrugged to himself. It had not done him any harm, so far.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mackay walked into Hunter's room before the morning briefing.
“DI Wilson,” he began. “You had a busy afternoon yesterday.”
“Yes, Sir.” Hunter looked solemn. “We are going to have to manage the information we release relating to Sir Peter Myerscough.”
“That's true, Wilson. But I want to ensure his son, young Timothy Myerscough, is shielded from media intrusion as far as possible.”
Hunter grimaced. “That is not going to be easy, Sir. We need to protect him from gossip inside the force as well as from the paparazzi vultures outside it.”
Mackay nodded. He pulled a chair out and flung himself into it. The two men sat facing each other. They said nothing. Deep in thought, Mackay jumped when there was a sharp knock on the door and Tim Myerscough strode into the room.
“Good morning, Sirs,” he began formally.
The senior officers looked up at Tim. He looked as if he had not slept.
”It is probably fortuitous that you are both here,” Tim went on. “In light of my father's difficulties, and to avoid any further embarrassment to the force, I tender my resignation, again.” He stared at Hunter Wilson. “This is with immediate effect. Please just invoice me for any amount I am due to repay as a result of failing to give the contractual period of notice.” Tim paused briefly. “Thank you, Sirs.” He turned to leave the room.
“Stop right there, young man!” Hunter bellowed. Both the other men in the room jumped in amazement; he rarely raised his voice. “I know life isn't going to be a bed of roses for you in the near future, but I never took you for a coward.”
“Not at all, Sir.” Tim looked taken aback.
Hunter made to take the letter. “Still, if you can't stand the heat, get the fuck out of my office, Myerscough. You are your father's son. Go on, fuck off!”
“Detective Inspector Wilson!” shouted Mackay. “May I request at least professional conduct
from a senior officer to his junior, even if you cannot manage courtesy. I want to remind you that DC Myerscough has shown himself to be a committed and competent officer. The force cannot afford to lose such men.”
“We are not losing him,” Hunter growled. “He is throwing his career away.” He snatched the envelope from his desk. “Dismissed, Myerscough. I will escort you to the door. Your personal belongings will be forwarded to you.”
Tim reddened. “Thank you, Sir. I am sorry if this is a disappointment to you, but I think you will find this to be for the best in the long run.”
“Disappointment? Disappointment, you arrogant arse? Don't flatter yourself! The force is better without crooks and cowards. Your father is one and you are the other. Let's get you out of here!” Hunter stormed towards his door and flung it open.
Bear was standing right behind it.
“Sir,” Bear smiled. “I've been looking for you, Tim. I have found something very strange.” He looked at Tim and nodded. “Your idea has worked, I think, or at least it has thrown up something new. You have given us a lead to the car used in those murders. Honestly, Tim, come and have a look at the results. You will not believe it!”
“Brilliant, Bear. That's great, but—”
Mackay picked up Tim's letter of resignation from Hunter's desk, tore it up and tossed it away. The bits of paper fluttered into the waste paper basket.
“DC Myerscough, you can explain your idea to us during the briefing, then perhaps DC Zewedu can explain the results.” Mackay ignored Hunter's spluttered protestations and Tim's confusion. “Come on now, men, let's get on. We have a lot of ground to cover.”
The three detectives followed Allan Mackay into the incident room. The room fell quiet as they entered, but the buzz of excitement rose again as Tim walked in. His father had been brought in and charged with fraud and possession of cocaine, before being bailed. It was not long since many of the team had all been partying with the MSP at Tim's housewarming with the former Chief Constable of Lothian and Borders Police Force. It was exciting stuff. It took Mackay a couple of attempts to call the room to order.