“No, it certainly wasn’t.” He dropped his hands onto the sofa and turned to look at her. “Listen, Mum, this is not very easy to tell you, but . . . Jackie has left me.”
His mother’s face expressed such immediate compassion that he felt like jumping to his feet and kneeling down in front of her and burying his head in her huge, pink-sweatered bosom. “Oh, Dan. What an awful thing to happen. And you did love her so much.”
Dan shook his head. “You’re right. But I’m afraid ‘did’ is probably the operative word.”
She leaned across and held onto his arm. “Had she been playing around, dear?”
Dan nodded.
“I had my suspicions, I have to say.”
“Yes. I reckon you would have done.” Dan leaned forward on the sofa and looked at his mother. “Are you happy here, Mum?”
“What, here in the flat, do you mean?”
“Yes.”
“No, I’m bloody miserable, if you will pardon my French.”
“Well, I wondered if you might like to come to live with me and the girls in Clapham.”
“Oh, no, dear, I could never impose myself on you like that.”
“Mum, you would not be imposing yourself. Right now, I don’t think there is anyone we would rather have in the house.”
“Do you really mean that, Dan?”
“Yes, I really mean it. As you know, the girls are going back to Alleyn’s, so if we sell this place, it would certainly help me with the finances.” He took a drink of beer from his can. “At least please think about it, Mum.”
His mother smiled at him. “I don’t need to think about it, dear. I can’t think of anything I would rather do.”
“Good.” He raised his can towards her. “Let’s toast ourselves an early Happy New Year then, shall we?” He clinked his can against her glass. “Cheers, Mum.”
“Chin-chin, love.”
Battersea Gran picked up the remote for her television and turned it up to almost full volume. The roar of the crowd in Edinburgh filled the room. “Now let’s see if we can spot Josh,” she yelled across the three-foot gap between herself and her son.
29
What? No Tarquin today?” Dan asked as he placed his pint of beer down on the table in the King’s Head pub.
“Not today,” Nick Jessop replied, folding up the business supplement of The Sunday Times and discarding it onto the pile of newspapers that lay beside him on the bench. “Laura has taken him off to some fancy-dress party this afternoon. It was quite incongruous to see a pirate with a pacifier in his mouth.” He took a gulp of beer. “So what have you done with your family today?”
Dan took off his leather jacket and hung it on the back of the chair before sitting down. “They’re all out of the house. Battersea Gran headed off to church on the bus this morning, and then rang to say that she’s going to have lunch with a friend. And the girls have gone round to see Jackie.”
“Ah. So contact has been reestablished.”
“Not really. It’s mostly through the lawyers. One good thing, though, is that I had a phone call from her lawyer on Friday, saying that I could stay in the house for as long as the girls were in full-time education. That should give me time to build up enough capital to buy a flat somewhere.”
“That sounds a decent enough arrangement. How are the girls getting on at Alleyn’s?”
“Loving it.” Dan took a drink of beer. “I should never have taken them away in the first place.”
“C’est la vie,” Nick said, raising his glass. “So it’s back to the old times, then.”
“Almost.”
Nick leaned his elbows on the table. “I’ve really enjoyed working with you again, Dan. It’s been great having you in the office over the past few months. It’s given the whole place a boost.”
“Well, I have you to thank for getting me the job.”
“Think nothing of it. By the way”—he picked up the business supplement and leafed quickly through it and then folded it twice—“you’ve got your name in the papers again.” He handed it over to Dan.
Dan read quickly through the short article about the proposed merger between Broughton’s and Car-swell Asset Management and then lobbed the supplement back onto the bench. He noticed in the pile of newspapers the gaudy red title page of the News of the World . He scoffed and shook his head. “Honestly, Nick, I don’t know why you bother reading all that crap.”
Nick glanced down at his newspapers. “To which publication are you referring in such disparaging terms?”
“The News of the World, Nick. It’s a load of rubbish.”
“It is not!” Nick retorted, pulling the paper out from below the pile. “I think it’s great. The News of the World is the master of the pun.” He opened up the broadsheet and began scanning its pages. “This, for instance. ‘Tellers a Story about Williams Bonk.’ Now tellers is spelt t-e-l-l-e-r-s. What do you think that’s about?”
“I have no idea.”
“Two tellers were caught on the security camera of Williams Bank having it off in the safe.”
“That’s very good. I wonder why I didn’t guess.”
“Right. I’ll try another one on you.” Nick turned the page and sought out his next tacky headline. “Okay, this one. ‘Strip Cartoon in Leicester Square Keeps Abreast with Technology.’ Any idea?”
Dan let out a sigh. “Well, it’s got to be something to do with breasts.”
“Yes?” Nick said, slanting his eyes at Dan, wanting him to go into a little more depth.
“I have no idea, Nick.”
Nick sucked his teeth. “You’re hopeless. ‘Belinda Carter (24), a secretary from Bromley, Kent, gave everyone a thrill in Leicester Square on Friday night. Returning from a Cartoon Character party, held in the Planet Hollywood restaurant, she divested herself of every last stitch of her Minnie Mouse outfit and danced naked on a bench in the square. The crowd that gathered around to watch were not only captivated by her dance routine, but also by the enormity of her breasts. “I’m very proud of them,” she told the policeman who had covered her indiscretions with his jacket before leading her away. “It cost me six months’ wages to get these silicon implants and I like to display them.” ’ How about that, then?”
“Thank you, Nick. I am enlightened. Now, do you think that you could put that paper down so that we could have a normal conversation?”
“One more.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes.”
“Just a quick one.” He turned the page. “Right, you should get this one.” He quickly read through the story. “And you’ll be pleased to hear that it’s not even smutty. Are you ready?”
Dan didn’t even bother to reply. He just nodded his head.
“ ‘Prawn to Stay Alive.’ ”
“No idea.”
“Not even going to hazard a guess?”
“No.”
Nick looked disappointed. “All right then. ‘When a rescue team reached the wreckage of a light aircraft that had crashed into a fog-bound hillside in remote Wester Ross, they were amazed to find that its cargo of prawns were still alive and crawling around on the ground. “It was amazing that anything survived that kind of an impact,” said Hughie McLeish of the Lochaber Mountain Rescue Team. “They must be tough little creatures.” The pilot of the plane, Dick Freeman (52) of Inverness, was killed outright along with his passenger, Patrick Trenchard (45) of Fort Will—’ ”
“Oh for God’s sake!” exclaimed Dan, grabbing the paper from Nick.
“What’s the matter? What are you objecting to now?”
Dan held up a hand as he continued to read the article.
Patrick Trenchard of Fort William. The plane, a Piper Aztec, had been chartered by Mr. Trenchard, who owns Seascape, the Fort William–based prawn factory, to fly a shipment of prawns from the Outer Hebrides back to the mainland. “I stuck a load of the prawns in a plastic bag and put them in my haversack,” continued Hughie. “The wife and I had them for our tea and they were deliciou
s!”
Dan tossed the paper back onto the table. “I have to go, Nick.”
“Why?”
Dan got up and flipped his jacket off the back of the chair. “I’ll tell you later.” He hurried off towards the door of the pub, and then stopped and went back to the table. “Listen, Nick, I might not be at work tomorrow. I don’t know yet, but just be prepared if I don’t show up.”
“Why? Come on, Dan, you’ve got to give me some idea of what’s happened.”
Dan pointed at the News of the World on the table. “Patrick Trenchard was the chap Josh and I worked for up in Scotland. He was a great friend of mine.”
“Oh, God. I’m really sorry, Dan, I had no idea.”
“No, you did me a favour. I’m not quite sure why Josh has never rung to tell me. So would you be able to cover for me if I do go AWOL?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll keep in touch just in case there’s any development on the Carswell merger.”
“How long do you reckon you’ll be away?”
“Not long. I promise you that I won’t leave you in the lurch, though.”
As Dan ran back to the house in Haleridge Road, he cursed himself for not having brought his mobile phone with him. He made it there in ten minutes flat. He opened the front door and went straight through to the kitchen and picked up the telephone receiver. He dialed Josh’s mobile number.
“Come on, Josh,” he muttered under his breath. “Answer it, for God’s sake.”
The mobile was redirected to Josh’s voicemail service, and Dan ended the call without leaving a message. Josh must have been out of range, no doubt at the cottage. He thought about ringing the factory, but being a Sunday, the switchboard would probably not be manned. Anyway, the place would more than likely be closed following Patrick’s death.
That left him only one option. Auchnacerie.
For a moment, his hand hovered above the dialing keyboard before he punched in the number. As soon as the call was connected, it was answered by his son.
“Josh?”
“Dad, where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all morning. Dad, I’ve got some really bad news—”
“I know, Josh. I’ve just read about it in the Sunday papers. When did it happen?”
“Friday night.”
“Why didn’t you contact me?”
“Because I only heard about it last night when I got back from Barcelona.”
“What were you doing there?”
“Patrick sent me and Maria José over on a sales trip.”
“Right.” Even though Dan was eager for information, he still experienced a swell of pride at Josh’s obvious rise in status. “So why are you at Auchnacerie?”
“Maria José and I are looking after Max and Sooty. Katie’s had to go up to Inverness to have a meeting in the coroner’s office. There has to be an enquiry.”
“How are the children?”
“They seem to be bearing up all right. Max is here with me, and Maria José and Sooty have taken the dogs for a walk.”
“Did you see Katie before she left?”
“Yes, I did.”
“How is she taking it?”
“She’s obviously pretty upset, but, on the other hand, she seems to be quite calm about it all. Maybe that’s what comes from living with illness for so long. She’s a pretty tough person.”
“I know she is.”
“Just before she left for Inverness, she told me that Patrick had been planning this trip for ages, and that he had been so excited about it. She said that he would have wanted to end his days doing something completely madcap like that, rather than fester away in a wheelchair.”
“I think that’s very true.” Dan suddenly had a vision of Patrick, eyes glinting with excitement and intrigue, staring out of the plane windscreen into the all-enveloping fog. He shook his head to clear it from his mind. “I don’t suppose any arrangements have been made for the funeral?”
“Not yet. Katie reckons that there’ll be a postmortem.”
“Of course.”
“Are you coming up, Dad?”
Dan ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve got to work it out, Josh. I’ll have to have a word with Battersea Gran and the girls before I make a decision.” He bit at his bottom lip. “What’s your gut feeling, Josh? You always seem to know.”
There was a brief silence on the line. “I think you should come up immediately, Dad,” Josh said quietly. “Katie needs your support. That’s my gut feeling.”
Dan smiled. “I’m glad you said that, Josh.”
“So will you come?”
“I’ll try to get on the train tonight. Can I get hold of you at Auchnacerie?”
“Yes. Maria José and I are staying here until Katie gets back.”
“In that case, I’ll make some plans and then give you a call. I’ll just stay at the cottage.”
“All right, then,” Josh replied, “and Dad, you’d better bring some warm clothes. It’s bloody freezing up here.”
30
There was no need for you all to come, you know,” Dan said to his mother as he walked with her and Millie and Nina along the platform at Euston Station.
“No bother at all, dear,” puffed Battersea Gran. “Sunday night telly has never been quite the same since Monarch of the Glen finished. Anyway, I’ve always rather liked railway stations. There’s such an air of excitement about them!”
Dan found his carriage and put his suitcase in through the door. He had taken notice of what Josh had said about the weather and now turned to face his farewell committee wearing his padded jacket and fawn-coloured corduroy trousers. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, bending down and giving his mother a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let you know when.”
Battersea Gran put her hand on the sleeve of his jacket and her eyes brightened when she felt its soft, downy texture. “Now that’s what I call clothing. At last you’ve come to your senses.”
The girls began laughing behind her back. Dan shot them a wink before moving over to Nina and giving a kiss and a long hug. Then he put his arms around Millie’s neck. “You be in charge,” he whispered into her ear. “Give me a call if anything goes haywire.”
“All right, Dad,” Millie said, giving him a smacking kiss on the side of his neck. “Even though you’re dressed like a prat, I still love ya.”
Dan laughed. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Give my love to everyone up there.”
“I will do.” He broke away from Millie’s embrace. “Right, you lot, I think you should get away home. There’s no point waiting until the train leaves.”
He stood watching them until they had reached the gate at the top of the platform. They turned and gave him an enthusiastic wave before disappearing into the crowded terminus. He shook his head slowly. What a difference, he thought to himself. Six months ago, those girls would hardly have acknowledged his existence, yet now they could not be more close to him. He tilted back his head and gazed up at the cavernous glass roof of the station. Six months ago, he had been precisely here, on his way up to Scotland on some whimsical jaunt, without one iota of realization that his selfish, insular existence had led his family into crisis. And what a price he had had to pay for it.
He turned and walked over to the carriage door, then glanced back to where he had last seen Battersea Gran and Millie and Nina. He could never afford to make that mistake again. Two families now depended on it. He knew that he owed that much to Patrick.
And as he boarded the train, he thought of Katie and he grinned as her shrewd advice came to mind. He took his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket, and extracting a ten-pound note, he went off in search of the car attendant.
friends
A Risk Worth Taking Page 29