by Lin Anderson
It was too late. The fumes had seeped into every part of her. Her brain, her stomach, her lungs. She couldn’t fight for breath any more.
Then she heard the alarm go off... a glorious shrieking sound... as smoke escaped with Liam into the next level.
Liam was out. That was all she cared about.
She closed her eyes and let go.
‘Rhona!’
Liam’s voice was a thousand miles away, but his hand held hers and he was pulling her free.
Chapter 36
Jaz studied the headstone.
In Memory of
Karen Carlyle
18th Aug 1988 - 28th Dec 2004
Aged 16 yrs
Love
Jaz and Emperor
At least there had been someone at her funeral. Rhona came. But not her son. He had left to work in Africa for a year. She pretended she was alright about that, but Jaz knew by her eyes that she wasn’t. DI MacFarlane was there and DI Wilson.
And MacRae, looking like shit. Glancing all the time at Rhona as if he wanted to say something and couldn’t. MacRae told him Amy had wanted to come but her mother wouldn’t let her. Jaz didn’t blame the mother for that. A funeral wasn’t the place for a wee girl.
It had taken a while to find out who Karen was, but MacFarlane promised he would do it and he did.
Emps put his cold nose in Jaz’s hand.
‘Okay boy. Let’s go.’
He set off across the frosted grass, Emps running by his side. Karen’s death had made him even more determined not to screw up this time. He owed it to her. He had started evening classes at college, was painting again. He planned to paint Karen the way he remembered her. In Rose Street, playing the penny whistle. That way, she would always be alive.
‘I didn’t sleep with him.’
Sean’s eyes held hers. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Then what does?’ she said sharply.
He ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to argue when the outcome was inevitable. He took her hand and stroked the palm with his thumb.
‘I’m not asking you to go,’ she said defensively.
He lifted her hand and kissed it sending a shiver through her body.
‘You met someone in Amsterdam.’ If that were true it would make it easier.
He shook his head. ‘This isn’t about me.’
It was about her.
‘You need space to decide... ’ The words who you want were left unsaid. ‘I’ll be in my old room at the club... if you need me.’
He let her hand fall. It felt cold without him.
‘You’ll come and hear me on Friday?’
She nodded. She wanted to kiss him, but didn’t.
She’d felt frightened as he left. Frightened to be alone. It lasted until the door closed behind him. Then she felt relief.
She stood in the empty flat. Sean’s suitcase gone from the hall, the saxophone from the corner of the bedroom.
So that was it.
She tested her feelings, recognising the hole that Sean’s departure had left inside her.
She had told him Sev had stayed at the flat on Hogmanay and held her in his arms as the bells tolled in the New Year, because in those moments they both needed someone. That was all, she’d insisted and almost meant it. Sean had read between the lines.
The cat came and wrapped itself round her legs in a flurry of cupboard love.
‘Just you and me again.’
She picked Chance up and carried him into the kitchen. The grass in the convent garden below the window was frosted icing. Two nuns were strolling around, their footprints criss-crossing the white topping. If only her world was like theirs; calm, peaceful and orderly.
Since the fire in the laboratory, she had lost all the men in her life. Liam had promised to write, but he was going somewhere remote. A school on the Nigeria-Cameroon border. She wouldn’t hear from him very often. She wondered if she ever would.
That last night they’d sat in a bar in Byres Road, where the surrounding noise made conversation easier. He was interested in her work and worried for her safety. She found herself liking this young man she had loved from a distance for so long.
Watching his face as he spoke, she thought she detected both herself and Edward in him. She didn’t regret either resemblance because Liam was his own man. She asked if he would like to know who his father was.
‘Not if you don’t want to tell me.’
She told him everything. How much she had loved Edward, how wrong she had been to give her son up.
‘I’ve thought about you every day of my life.’ She looked down, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes.
He was silent for a moment, giving her time.
‘I had a happy childhood. But there were things about me I didn’t understand... ‘ he paused, trying to put his thoughts into words. ‘I liked being alone.’ He gave a half smile. ‘Mum and Dad thought I was lonely.’
‘And were you?’
He shook his head. ‘No. But when they told me about the adoption, I understood then why I was different.’
They had begun to talk of other things. His trip to Africa, his university course, her work.
She suspected like her, he needed to go away and think about this. He had met her once. Maybe that was all he needed or wanted.
When they parted, he turned and waved and she took a mental image of her son to hold close to her in case she never saw him again.
Severino too had come to see her, blaming himself for her ordeal. She’d had a hunch about the arsonist and he didn’t act on it quickly enough. Tim Redpath had served with the fire service for ten years. He had been dedicated to the work. Some said consumed by it. Fire became more important than anything else in his life. Like me, Severino said. He was suspected of starting some of the fires he attended and dismissed from the service. His life fell apart. When he started buying drugs, Tommy Moffat had seen the potential in Tim’s obsession.
‘And the connection with Greg?’
‘Once he established where you were staying, he did a bit of detective work,’ he paused. ‘If I had been thinking more and drinking less... ’ Sev’s voice tailed off. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
He looked at the suitcase waiting in the hall.
‘For fucking up your life.’
‘I managed that all by myself.’
He met her eyes.
‘Do you think, you and I... ’
She ran it over in her head, not for the first time.
‘No.’
‘I had to ask.’
When they kissed, his breath was sweet.
‘Irn Bru.’ He smiled wryly.
She drew away.
‘What about Gillian?’
‘Moving to Auchenblair permanently. There’s a nice steady guy there. Runs the local hotel. He’s always had a soft spot for Gillian. Amy’s going to the village school.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re not the only one who can mess up.’ He stroked her face. ‘What will you do now?’
‘Go back to work.’
‘We’re alike, you and I.’
‘That would be the problem.’
Rhona listened to the silence, then walked from room to room reclaiming her home. Sean was right. She needed time and space. If they got back together it would be on different terms. They would each have to learn to commit.
She felt a strange peace envelop her. She had found Liam. The arsonist was caught. And she knew at last that her nemesis was dead. The forensic tests on the remains found in the hills were complete. Weakened by loss of blood, he had died of exposure. The paedophile who called himself Simon would never again trawl the internet for vulnerable young men. She need never search for him in a crowd again.
The convent bells began to toll for evening prayer. Rhona carried the cat into the sitting room, switched on the stereo and sat down in front of the fire as the saxophone’s notes filled the room.
&nb
sp; Alone, Rhona listened to it play its song of love.
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About the Author
Lin Anderson has published seven novels featuring forensic expert Dr Rhona MacLeod, of which Torch is the second. The seventh, The Reborn is out in paperback in May 2011. Her short stories have appeared in a number of collections. Most recently Dead Close was chosen for the Best of British Crime 2011. Also a screenwriter, her film River Child won a BAFTA and the Celtic Film Festival Best Fiction award.
Other books in the series, available as print copies and ebooks
Driftnet
Deadly Code
Dark Flight
Easy Kill
Final Cut
The Reborn
Blood Red Roses (novella)
Connect with Lin Online:
Author’s homepage: http//www.lin-anderson.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Lin_Anderson
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Dunedin9