The Nationalist
Page 27
“I can’t sleep, I’m going out.”
“Don’t go and see Rose.”
Chris tried to block Arbogast, but he forced his way past. When the door slammed shut Jason appeared back in the hall, still brushing his teeth, “What was that all about?”
“Don’t ask.”
For a second Arbogast forgot where he was, half expecting to find himself outside the flat in Park Circus. Chris Guthrie lived in Garnethill, less than a mile away. He knew it wouldn’t take long to get back home to Rose. Down over the pedestrian bridge; across the motorway, Arbogast was outside his old flat in less than 15 minutes. But when he saw the light was on, he couldn’t bring himself to go in. He’d sobered up slightly. The icy blast of cold wind had brought him to his senses. Instead he walked around the Georgian terraces and down through Kelvingrove Park. It could be a dangerous place to be at night, but there was no one there to bother him. On Kelvin Way he looked up and saw Glasgow University. Climbing up the steep steps through the park he was soon underneath the tower. Beneath, the vast panorama of Glasgow stretched out before him. The strange Arabic turrets of Kelvingrove Art Gallery were silhouetted against the street lights of Dumbarton Road. The lights shone and Arbogast wondered how many people out there were having as shitty a time as he was. He sat on a bench and looked out for several hours, trying to clear his head. It was hopeless, and the longer he stayed the more questions he wanted answers to; when he knew there were none. Things happened. Sometimes for a reason but sometimes they just happened; there wasn’t always a big reveal. It was getting light now. Students on their way home from a night out staggered by, sniggering as they made their way past. Reaching into his jacket pocket he took out a crumpled piece of paper. Unrolling it he recognised a car registration number. Arbogast stared at the paper for a long time. He sighed and carefully folded the sheet and put it back in his wallet.
“OK Dad, you win, but whatever it is you’ve got to say it had better be good.”
Walking home he saw the sun rise over the city and smiled. Today was as good a day as any to start again.
About the author
Originally from Ayrshire, Campbell Hart has lived in Glasgow on-and-off for more than 20 years. A qualified broadcast journalist he spent ten years working in commercial radio and at BBC Scotland before moving into PR.
His debut crime novel ‘Wilderness’ was inspired by real events and the bitter winter of 2010. It reached No. 2 in the Amazon Noir charts and stayed in the top 100 for five months.
The third book in the Arbogast trilogy ‘Referendum’ is coming soon.
For more details visit: www.campbellhart.co.uk
Acknowledgements
The author would like to thank all those people who have helped to make this project possible – particularly Tim Byrne for his fantastic cover design; John Robertson for his web support; Marjorie Calder, Candy Watermeyer, and Rosie McIntosh for their keen eyes and constructive feedback; and to Jon Miller for his insider knowledge – cheers!
Contents
Table of contents
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49