by David Wilson
‘This one isn’t working either, maybe it’s your wiring, these old houses can be funny at times that way. I’ll switch on the main light.’ She walked to the door and flicked the switch, which resulted in yet another dim glow emanating from within the light shade hanging from the ceiling.
Abigail looked at Alasdair. ‘What on earth? What’s happened to your lights, have the bulbs gone?’
Alasdair slumped into his chair. ‘No, the bulbs were new today. It’s the carbon people to blame on this one Abby.’ Abigail took a seat, having a feeling there was a story about to come forth.
‘Who?’ she asked.
‘The carbon people at the council, you know – the ones I saw in the Marches yesterday? It’s my new energy-saving light-bulbs. I’m helping to save the environment you know.’
Abigail rolled her eyes. ‘That may be, but it won’t do much good for our sight trying to peer through this gloom. What wattage did you get? These new low-energy light-bulbs are better than they used to be, they shouldn’t be this bad.’
‘It’s not that simple Abby,’ he said, bringing out his energy report from a drawer and placing it on the desk. ‘The carbon people ran a check on my carbon footprint and told me it was a bit of a monster. They gave me a list of things I should be doing to try and cut my energy use so I’ve taken them on board.’
‘So, it was the energy-saving people who told you to keep your house lit like a cave? I don’t think they count light pollution as part of the problem, you could surely have better bulbs than this?’
Alasdair looked deflated. ‘Yes, but when they told me all of the things I should be doing, like changing my car, new glazing, walking more than driving, avoiding flying, it all seemed a bit draconian! I mean they can’t seriously expect me to take the bus, I’ve seen some of the people who take the bus and I don’t think it would be for me.’
Abigail exhaled. ‘Excuse me Mr high and mighty, but I use the bus sometimes and I’m quite sure it’s safe and the people on it are fine too. So if you’ve to do all these things, then what does that have to do with these awful bulbs?’
Alasdair leaned over, looking pleased with himself. ‘Well, I read somewhere about governments who make agreements to offset their carbon emissions, so I did a little research and decided that I’m going to do that as well. It’s fantastic. The carbon people said that I should use 60-watt energy-saving bulbs. But what I thought was, if I use 20-watt bulbs then I can offset that against taking the bus!’ His face broke into the satisfied smile of someone who has outwitted the system.
Abigail looked slightly confused. ‘But Alasdair, the amount of energy you save by using the lower-watt bulbs won’t make much of a dent against your Mercedes. You’d need to be doing a lot more to offset that, wouldn’t you? And what about when you fly abroad for holidays? That uses up a lot of your carbon allowance so you’ll never be able to offset that, unless you’re going to holiday at home.’
He looked shocked. ‘I can’t holiday at home. I need to get away to the sun, it’s good for me.’
‘Then you need to start embracing some of the things on this list, don’t you?’
Alasdair sighed again. ‘But there’s so much to do, it’s not easy all this Green stuff.’
Abigail tossed the list back onto the desk. ‘If it was easy then everyone would be doing it and we wouldn’t have a problem with any of this.’
‘True I suppose,’ he put his feet up on the desk, ‘I’ll need to have a better look into all of this business. Anyway Abby, what do you think we can do about this burglary? It’s very frustrating waiting around for the police to come up with something.’
‘It’s only been one day! Have some patience for goodness sake.’ Abigail sipped her drink, ‘What seems to be a more important issue at the moment is Sophie’s problem finding a new guest of honour. You must have some thoughts on that don’t you?’
Alasdair threw up his arms. ‘I’ve offered Abby but to no avail, she says it might look biased. Some of these celebrities want paid thousands, which is out of the question on her budget, and Sophie’s keen to get someone local to kick things off, since it’s the first one. I mean who can she ask here?’ They sat for a time and thought about this before moving on to other topics, including the subject of Abigail’s new lodger. ‘Do you think it’s wise, leaving her with the run of your house while you’re out? She might be a con artist and while you’re gone she and this husband of hers will be clearing out your house.’ The thought had crossed Abigail’s mind but ultimately she had to trust her judgement and her feeling was that Emma was genuine.
‘We could go through life thinking that about people, Alasdair, but I know her and I’m pretty sure she’s fine. The world would be in a terrible state if we couldn’t help out a fellow human being in need, wouldn’t it?’
Alasdair nodded. ‘Yes, but just be careful that’s all I’m saying. These people can tell if someone’s vulnerable and they seek them out to prey on them.’
Abigail stiffened and looked annoyed. ‘Where do you get this idea I’m vulnerable and can be “preyed upon” as you put it? You make me sound like I’m incapable!’
‘Steady on Abby, I’m not suggesting that, it’s just that it’s not been long since Arthur died and you might …’
She cut him off. ‘I’m well aware of that, although it’s a pity you didn’t show the same concern to him when he was alive and who knows what would have been. If he hadn’t been worked into the ground when you decided to sell off your share of the business then he might not have had his heart attack.’ Abigail regretted saying it as soon as the words left her mouth and she knew really it wasn’t down to Alasdair. But there had just been a few too many comments about her fragile state and it had started to irk her. When Arthur and he had been in partnership they were very close friends but when Alasdair decided to take early retirement and sell off his share of their solicitors practice, it left a huge burden on Arthur to keep on top of things. It was worse that Alasdair sold out to a larger chain of solicitors, one of those companies who carry out property conveyancing on the ‘stack them high and sell them cheap’ philosophy. Arthur’s problem was that he was just too involved and cared so much about his business, his staff and customers that he couldn’t seem to extricate himself from it, until the matter was taken out of his hands and into those of a somewhat higher authority.
Alasdair stood up and marched from behind his desk, ‘I think perhaps we should call it a night Abigail, before we both say something we’ll really regret.’ His tone was restrained but angry. ‘If you really think I’m to blame for what happened then just come out and say it, but I can tell you you’d be wrong and I’m quite sure you know it! Let me show you out …’ He opened the study door and gestured her in the direction of the hall, at which Abigail strode out of the room, picking up her coat on the way, and left without another word.
Chapter Fourteen
Abigail stormed in her front door, letting it slam loudly behind her. The walk around the corner had been too short to calm her down, although in truth she was angrier with herself more than anything else. Emma’s voice shouted through from the kitchen, ‘Abigail? I’ve got the kettle on if you’d like a cup?’
‘No thanks, think I need something a little stronger if you’d care to join me?’ Emma appeared from the kitchen as Abigail was pouring two glasses of gin and tonic.
‘Everything alright?’ Abigail handed Emma a drink and they sat down in front of the fire which was barely glowing in the hearth.
‘Oh, I just had a bit of a fall out with that old …’ her voice trailed off since she was never one to bad mouth anyone if she could help it. ‘Daft really though, I think he just hit a nerve. You know how sometimes you can be fretting over something within yourself but when someone else puts their finger on it, it annoys you? It’s like it was something you didn’t have to admit to anyone else but it turns out someone’s noticed it anyway and the cat’s out of the bag.’
Emma nodded. ‘I suppose so. What
was it he said?’ Abigail got up and threw another log onto the fire and stabbed at the embers.
‘He said I was vulnerable and not really myself, and he put it down to Arthur’s death.’ She gazed into the flames as they started to grow steadily, ‘The trouble is though, he’s right.’
Emma gave a dismissive wave. ‘You seem fine to me, in fact considering how recently it happened I’d say you seem remarkably fine. Men always think there’s some reason we act irrationally – if it’s not our time of the month, it’s our hormones, or our time of life, or just that we’re women!’
Abigail laughed and sat back down. ‘You could have something there,’ she took a long slow sip of her drink, ‘but the annoying thing is he was right. The world seems a slightly scarier place now I have to face it alone. Arthur and I were a team, we met the world head on and nothing would phase us. Now I seem to be creeping around trying to stay under the radar and just play at things now. I go to work, I come home, and I go to work … I feel like I’ve thrown in the towel and I’m too young for that. I shouldn’t have said what I said to him though. He was only trying to help and I lashed out because he was right and I didn’t want to accept it.’ Abigail explained to Emma about the conversation with Alasdair, refilling their drinks as she did. Emma listened, which Abigail liked; she didn’t try to jump in with meaningless comments, but just listened and took in what she was hearing. ‘Anyway, it’ll all blow over I’m sure.’
Emma looked at her and nodded. ‘I’m sure it will. Maybe getting a little bit angry was what you needed, to feel what it’s like to have the blood running through your veins again?’
‘Maybe so. I certainly owe Alasdair an apology now though, which will make him insufferable!’ she laughed. ‘But if it wasn’t for friends like he and Sophie, and now you too, I’d been in a sorry old state.’ Abigail held up her glass and Emma did likewise, ‘To friends old and new, and to new beginnings.’
Emma smiled. ‘I’ll drink to that. I’ve had an eventful night myself.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, I had about twenty missed calls from John and a few choice voicemails as well. You can imagine. I called him back and told him to stop calling me and then I told him exactly what I thought of him and that he was on his own. I believe he may have used some expletives but as I was ending the call I didn’t quite have the pleasure of catching them. He really is an amazing prat.’
Abigail put a hand over Emma’s. ‘Well done. How do you feel?’
She sighed. ‘I feel relieved more than anything. I suppose I’m like you in that it felt good to feel my heart thumping in my chest as I spoke to him but this time it felt different. I wasn’t the one being trodden over, I felt like I had grown to about ten feet tall.’ They finished the rest of their drinks and then Emma got up and poured two more.
‘Sorry Abigail, I didn’t ask, do you want another one? I just have a feeling I’ll sleep better if my brain’s a little less active.’
Abigail nodded. ‘Sounds fine to me. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good few drinks, it’ll do me good as well.’ Emma sat back down on the couch and they both watched the fire for a few minutes, just savouring the quiet, the comfort, and the thought of new beginnings.
Emma glanced across. ‘Abigail …?’
‘Hmm …?’
‘Something else I need to tell you. I might be leaving the library.’
Abigail sat up and looked at her. ‘Why? Don’t you like it?’
‘I do, it’s been great but …’ she tried to put it into words, ‘it’s just not really me. I only took the job for the work experience to try and get me back into a job, and as much as I’ve enjoyed working there with you and some of the others, I just find it a bit too quiet.’
Abigail looked surprised. ‘I always find it quite a stimulating place to work, although I’ve worked there for years. I think it’s a place that gets into your soul over time. What do you think you’ll do?’ Emma’s eyes lit up.
‘Well, after I’d had the run-in with John I felt I needed some fresh air so I went for a walk and ended up in the town. There’s a new restaurant opening up soon in King Street and the owner had a sign in the window for an assistant manager so I just went in to find out about it and I’ve got an interview tomorrow.’
Abigail raised an eyebrow. ‘Assistant manager in a restaurant? Have you any experience in that sort of work? I’m no expert but it can be a demanding job working in these places.’
‘No, although I did help out in a sandwich bar for a summer job when I was a teenager; it was called Give us Piece, not a big place but quite well liked by people. Anyway I just wanted to do this. I might not get it, I’m sure there are lots of people going after it, but I just had to go for it. It was a spur of the moment thing but it felt like I was destined to walk in there, and if I hadn’t had the break with John and been living here, then I would never have been walking tonight and seen it. It’s funny how sometimes things can work out. We’ll see what happens. You’re not annoyed are you? I am grateful for the job you gave me, but …’
Abigail smiled, quite warmly. ‘It’s fine. In fact it’s nice to see you this excited. It reminds me when I started in the library as a trainee, my parents thought it was a bit of a waste but I just knew I wanted to do it. Sometimes you have to follow your heart rather than your head.’ She got up and stoked the fire again, making the flames jump up and cast a warm glow over the room, ‘I think perhaps one more drink before I turn in, how about you?’
‘Perfect.’
Sophie Mills came home to find Alasdair sitting in his chair nursing a glass of malt and watching a repeat of Colditz on the television. ‘You look cheery, what’s up with you?’ Alasdair relayed the evening’s events with Abigail and Sophie plumped herself down next to him on the sofa. ‘I wouldn’t worry too much, Abigail will calm down and realise you were trying to help. It sounds a bit rash to me as well, taking in this lodger, although she has always been a very good judge of character, I’ll say that for Abigail. It’ll all blow over.’
Alasdair shrugged. ‘I don’t know, she seemed quite annoyed, not like herself at all. She’s usually quite calm about things.’
‘Maybe she isn’t quite herself, but she shouldn’t be trying to suggest you had anything to do with Arthur, it was his own fault. He had the chance to sell his share as well after the first year but he decided to stay with it, and they just worked him into an early grave. He was too kind a man for those people, they just exploited his good nature.’ She leaned into Alasdair, who put his arm around her.
‘Thanks Soph. Anyway, how was your meeting tonight, any joy with a new figurehead for the show?’
She looked up at him excitedly. ‘We did. Peter Finchburn came up with the very person and we all agreed, I’m going to pay a visit tomorrow to see if I can seal the deal as it were.’
‘That’s great news, well done! I’m sure it’ll be all sorted tomorrow then – who is it you’re going to ask?’
‘We’re going to ask Milton Scott.’ She jumped as Alasdair leapt up from the sofa.
‘What! You’ve got to be kidding?’
Chapter Fifteen
Emma’s interview was at ten o’clock Wednesday morning but she was awake early and making breakfast by seven thirty. Abigail was working this morning so she was also up and having some All Bran. ‘Are you ready for your big interview?’ Emma sat down opposite her at the kitchen table with some toast.
‘Ready as I’ll ever be. I’m not sure what sort of things he’ll ask me. Suppose I’ll just need to wait and see; it should be fun I hope. How are you this morning? Have you spoken to Alasdair yet?’ Abigail crunched her cereal without answering. ‘You are going to speak to him today aren’t you?’
‘I’m not so sure you know. I was thinking about it last night and maybe he should come and apologise to me first.’
Emma tutted. ‘Old people are always stubborn! Is it worth wasting any time over this? Life’s too short.’ She got up and started washing up the dishes
and put the kettle on. ‘Tea?’
Abigail got up and pushed her chair under the table. ‘No thanks, I better get off to work,’ then, smiling, ‘I have a feeling someone might be phoning in sick today so I’ll need to get a head start.’
Emma blushed slightly. ‘Sorry, it does put you in a little bit of an awkward position. I’ll make it up to you. What if I make us a nice dinner tonight? It’ll be my way of saying thanks.’
‘Ok, that would be lovely. I’ll get some wine to go with it on my way home later.’
Emma sat down in the lounge with her cup of tea, trying to compose herself before her interview. She could feel her nerves starting to tingle and butterflies coming to life in her stomach. Calm down Emma, calm down, she thought looking about for something to distract her. She picked up yesterday’s newspaper from the brass magazine rack and flopped it open. Her eyes scanned over the pages looking for nothing in particular when they stopped on one story which caught her attention.
Jason Scott, 32, from Stirling, died yesterday in a house fire which ripped through his second-storey flat, and caused extensive damage to a neighbouring property. Mr Scott, who was unemployed and known to suffer from habitual drinking, is believed to have been intoxicated after leaving the Broadsword public house in the town and then accidentally started the fire on returning home. Fire Brigade spokesperson, Bill Menzies, commented that it appeared that Mr Scott had returned home and started to make a snack before falling asleep in his chair and had then been rendered unconscious from smoke inhalation. Mr Menzies added that they had found a square sausage in the toaster and concluded that Mr Scott had tried to cook the sausage in the toaster for a snack, however the fat dripping from it had been set alight by the heating element and the flames had spread to nearby curtains. No suspicious circumstances are being investigated …
She folded the paper up and put it aside as she got up. Set himself alight with a square sausage, she thought. Huh. And I think I’ve got problems!