by Pat Young
‘Don’t be daft. Let’s talk about Smeaton. When I called his office to tell him the conference was cancelled, he answered the phone himself. I nearly peed my pants.’
Marty knew she was meant to laugh, but she was too busy regretting her stupid remark about him being jealous.
‘You should have heard the way he spoke to me, and I was pretending to be a complete stranger. A polite, helpful member of the conference centre staff, calling to tell him the conference would have to be postponed. He gave me dog’s abuse about short notice and inconvenience and lack of organization. You have no idea. It was unbelievable. I could barely stop myself telling him to F-off. I wanted to slam the phone down.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I was worried he’d call back to complain and find out the conference wasn’t cancelled at all.’
‘Good move. Are you certain he didn’t recognise your voice?’
Joe reassured her in a very credible Eastern European accent.
‘Wow, how do you do that?’
‘Years of holidaying in Bulgaria and many ill-spent hours chatting to Glasgow bar staff.
***
CHAPTER 50
Joe threw a book and a giant bar of chocolate onto the back seat of the Land Rover and climbed in behind the wheel. The rest of his stuff was already at the bothy. The women didn’t know it, but he’d been living there since he moved out of the flat.
The town was busy with Friday afternoon traffic but once he got out on the open road, he had a clear run into the countryside. He took the turn signposted for the castle and passed the laybys and picnic spots that would provide tomorrow’s pickup point. It was down to Sheila and Ruby to choose which one, depending on how many other visitors were around. Joe had to admit that Sheila was right to bring Ruby in as an accomplice. Apparently she was determined she could get Smeaton to agree to a ‘wee run up to the castle’ and would be cantankerous enough to demand that he park where she chose to enjoy their picnic.
The countryside was bare and yellow, all signs of last summer’s green erased by winter. Where bracken met heather, the hillsides were patch-worked in shades of brown. Dry stone walls snaked up impossibly steep slopes. Joe passed the castle, semi-ruined now, and followed the road until it ran out of tar. The Land Rover had no trouble coping with the unpaved track that led round behind the hill to the bothy. It was well-hidden from the main road and far enough from it to feel remote. Joe slowed to a crawl as a ewe and her full-grown lamb cantered off the verge into his path and ambled along at their own speed.
As he approached the bothy, an enervating thrill ran through his body. This had never been part of his own plan but it suited him fine. He parked behind the house and stepped out, his feet sinking into the mossy ground. It was like walking on finest carpet. The honking of geese made him raise his eyes to the sky, and he watched them fly in formation towards the loch. They disappeared into the distance and a silence descended, broken only by the sound of a jet, miles away. Joe breathed in air that smelled of nothing but freshness.
***
CHAPTER 51
Sheila hadn’t slept a wink. At five thirty she gave up on sleep, switched on her bedside lamp and reached for her little notebook. She flicked over the pages till she got to the one that said Order of Play. She ran her eye down the list, double-checking the details she had committed to memory over a week ago. She prayed nothing would go wrong today.
Pulling on a fleecy robe, she wandered through to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, checking her phone. Marty had sent a text at two am asking if she was awake.
At six thirty the phone rang.
‘Hi Sheila, did you sleep?’
‘Not a wink. You?’
‘Far too much on my mind, like wondering if we’re all completely mad.’
Sheila poured hot water onto ground coffee and inhaled the rich smell. ‘I guess we’ll sleep easy this time next week.’
‘Yeah. When do you think it will be all over, as a matter of interest?’
‘No idea. When Smeaton sees the error of his ways, I suppose,’ said Marty.
‘And how long do you think that will take?’
‘Who knows? No more than a couple of days, I hope. I want this finished so I can move on with my life. He’s been ruining it for long enough.’
‘Marty, I’ve been thinking. Once it’s done, maybe we should sever all connections between you, me, Carole and Joe.’
‘Been thinking that too. For your sake and Carole’s. Unless Smeaton can prove we kidnapped him and kept him against his will, he can’t do anything to Joe or me, but he could make your lives a misery if he suspected you were involved.’
‘Agreed. I’m going to miss you though. You guys have really helped me through a very dark place.’
‘The valley of the shadow of death, eh?’
‘That’s the one. Anyway, thank you.’ Sheila could feel tears coming, the last thing she wanted. ‘Right,’ she said, briskly, ‘See you later. About ten. And Marty?’
‘Yes?’
‘Keep the faith.’
Sheila pulled the belt of her robe tight round her waist and tied a pinny on top. She might as well make a start on the picnic. She banged a little saucepan on to the stove, filled it with water and set two eggs to boil. Ruby’s favourite sandwich was egg mayonnaise and Sheila planned to give the old lady a treat. They would need something to do while they waited for the drug to take effect, so Ruby might as well enjoy herself.
By ten fifteen, Marty and Sheila were ready to go. Sheila, dressed as Violet, had added to her disguise a pair of glasses and a touch of make-up. She did not want to risk being recognized by her boss. She and Ruby had agreed Violet ought to say as little as possible in Smeaton’s presence and that she would change her voice when she did have to speak.
The picnic was packed and waiting by the front door, including Smeaton’s favourite soft-drink. It was vital to the plan that he take the spiked drink and swallow the lot.
They sat at the kitchen table, nursing cups of coffee and willing the hands on the clock to hurry up a bit. Sheila rose to her feet saying, ‘Here I go again.’ She had already confessed to Marty that fear had been making her run to the toilet constantly for the last few days. ‘I hope I can make it through the picnic without having to dash off into the bushes.’ Both women laughed at the idea but Sheila was dreading the possibility.
At ten thirty, Marty said, ‘Right then, kid. Showtime.’
***
CHAPTER 52
Marty was glad to be taking action at last. This operation seemed to have been so long in the planning. In fact, it was only a few months since she and Joe had met, but it seemed to Marty like she had been waiting years for this day to come.
She hoped Sheila’s nerve would hold, especially when she came face to face with Smeaton. Sheila had never had any problems with him. Liz had believed, and Marty agreed, that was because he knew she attended St Gerard’s although Sheila said he had never spoken to her at church. They did not attend Mass on the same day, apparently, and Sheila said Smeaton was much more devout than herself. Marty hoped his faith was as strong as they had been led to believe. The whole plan hinged on that.
She glanced across at Sheila, or rather, Violet. She looked every inch the elderly lady, hunched over in the passenger seat, dressed head to toe in beige. Her silver grey wig was mostly hidden under a silk square that had belonged to Liz. Sheila was wearing it for luck. ‘I keep reminding myself that this is all for Liz,’ Sheila said, as if she had read Marty’s mind. ‘Each time I find myself wondering what on earth I’m doing, I think about Liz. Then anger floods through me and I feel like one of those turbo-charged cars, ready to race.’
‘That’s good to know, because we’re approaching the starting grid. I think this is close enough, don’t you?’ She had pulled into a side street and turned to face the way they’d come. She stopped the car and switched off the engine.
‘Yes, this is perfect. We don’t want you bumping into yo
u-know-who.’ Sheila pulled down the sun visor and inspected her disguise in the little mirror. Then she hoisted her huge handbag over her arm, patted her headscarf and turned to Marty. When she spoke, her voice made Marty smile and nod her head in approval, ‘I can’t thank you enough, my dear. You have been most kind. I wonder, would you do me one last little obligement?’
Marty laughed and said, ‘Of course, Violet.’
‘Would you mind helping me with my picnic bag? It’s an awful awkward lift for a lady of my age.’
Sheila did a very convincing version of an old lady getting out of a car, showing a generous amount of long pink cotton knickers above bare legs and pop socks.
Marty handed her the picnic, whispering, ‘Break a leg, Violet,’ then patted her on the back and watched her toddle off towards Briargrove.
Marty got back behind the wheel and took a long, deep breath. As she exhaled she said aloud, ‘Right, Marty. You’ve set the ball rolling. There’s no turning back now.’ She didn’t know whether she was excited or scared. Her stomach seemed to choose a mixture of the two. It was full of butterflies, but, for the moment at least, they seemed to be flying in formation.
She reached into her bag and took out her phone. ‘Joe?’ she said, ‘I just dropped Violet off near Briargrove. She looks and sounds exactly like an old woman. Smeaton won’t suspect a thing. Shit!’
She dropped the phone and sunk down into her seat, trying to disappear behind the dashboard but keep her eyes high enough to see the road ahead. About two hundred metres away, on the main road, the traffic had stopped. Directly in her line of vision was the profile of a man she would recognise anywhere. It was Smeaton, no doubt about it, but he was here far too early and he wasn’t driving his usual car. As she huddled out of sight, Marty became aware of two things simultaneously. One was Joe’s voice calling her name from the phone at her feet. The other was the pandemonium in her stomach as the butterflies all flew into one another.
She scrabbled around on the floor till she located the phone and gasped into it, ‘Smeaton just drove by. He’s too early. He’ll be there before Sheila. What will I do?’
No answer. Joe must have given up and rung off.
***
CHAPTER 53
‘Time to put your coat on, Ruby,’ called Doreen. ‘Your son’s here.’
That couldn’t be right. Ruby checked her wristwatch, in case she had dozed off and lost half an hour. She was feeling well and alert this morning and sure enough, no more than five minutes had gone since she last checked the time. Violet was meant to get here first, but Tommy had turned up early. She had been hoping Violet would run through the plan again. She didn’t want to be the one to ruin everything by making a mistake.
In he came, strutting across the lounge in that self-important way of his. He was developing a little pot belly and he carried it before him like a prized possession.
He stood in front of her, slapping his gloves against his leg, impatient as a Gestapo officer in a war movie. It occurred to her that it might make sense to be a bit nicer to him than usual. A lot depended on him, he had to do what she asked over the next few hours.
‘I got the flowers you sent for my birthday, thanks.’
‘Ah yes, your birthday. Many happy returns. Sorry to hear you were a bit poorly last week. They said no visitors were allowed. How are you today?’
‘Fine, thanks.’
‘Looking forward to a wee outing?’
‘Yes. I am.’
‘Get your coat on then and we’ll go.’
‘We need to wait for Violet.’
‘Why would we wait for Violet?’
‘Because I told her she could come too.’
He leaned in close and said, ‘Listen to me, mother. I don’t mind taking you out, but I draw the line at taking any of these …’ He stopped and looked around at Ruby’s co-residents, as if trying to find an appropriate word to describe them. He settled on, ‘old dears. Half of them aren’t even awake. It would be a complete waste of time taking them anywhere.’
Ruby said, ‘Violet isn’t an old dear, she’s a good bit younger. She’s not even a resident here. And I promised we would take her. You said it was okay last week.’
‘I’ve changed my mind. I’ve got a new car and I don’t want some incontinent old biddy wetting herself on my upholstery.’
Ruby ignored his remark but she heard Jinty make a loud tut of disapproval from two seats along. ‘We can’t go without Violet. She’s bringing the picnic.’
‘Oh, Mother,’ he said in a long-suffering voice, ‘we’re not going to celebrate your eighty-fifth birthday with a few soggy sandwiches and some over-stewed tea in a flask.’
‘Eighty-third,’ said Ruby in a quiet voice, knowing he wasn’t listening anyway.
‘I’m taking you down the coast to Trump Turnberry for lunch. That’s why I’m here early. Thought we’d have an aperitif looking out at Ailsa Craig while we listen to someone tinkling the ivories on the grand piano. Lunch is sixty-five pounds a head, you know.’
Ruby wondered if she was supposed to be impressed. She was about to ask him, when she remembered her plan to keep him sweet. ‘Oh, Tommy, that’s an awful lot of money for a meal. You don’t need to go to all that expense for me.’
His chest inflated like a courting pigeon’s. ‘Nonsense. I can easily afford it.’
He looked around the room but no one seemed impressed, least of all Jinty who gave another loud tut.
‘Come on now. Where’s your coat?’
‘I want to wait for Violet.’
‘Mother,’ he hissed, ‘I’m not buying lunch for some old woman I’ve never met before. Besides, she won’t have the palate to appreciate luxury food.’
‘I don’t think I have either. Or the stomach for it.’ She smiled to take the edge off her words though she meant what she said. He gave her a look. She was about to say she’d prefer an egg sandwich when Violet appeared.
‘Oh, good,’ she said, ‘here’s Violet now.’
‘Hang on, isn’t she the one that nearly ruined my good coat?’ He shook his head. ‘You have to be joking, Mother.’
***
CHAPTER 54
Ruby was impressed. If Violet was shocked to see Tommy there too early, she hid it well. All credit to her.
‘Hello, Violet, dear,’ said Ruby. ‘Have you met my son Tommy? Tommy, this is my friend, Miss McNish.’
‘Of course, she’s met me, Mother, remember? Hello again, Miss McNish.’
Violet offered Tommy her gloved hand. She smiled, but said nothing. She was sticking to their plan.
Ruby asked, ‘Did you bring the picnic, Violet?’ When Violet nodded, Ruby said, ‘Did you put plenty of mayonnaise on the egg sandwiches?’
‘Sorry, Miss McNish,’ interrupted Tommy. ‘We’ve had a bit of a last-minute change. I didn’t realise you were planning a picnic and I’m afraid I’ve booked a table for lunch at Trump Turnberry. A table for two.’
Violet’s disappointment showed on her face, but she quickly recovered her composure and said, ‘Oh, that’s nice. Bon appétit.’
‘Thanks,’ said Tommy, taking his mother’s arm to hurry her out of her chair. ‘Right, Mother. Let’s get going.’
Ruby refused to budge. ‘I don’t want to go to some posh restaurant. I told you what I wanted for my birthday treat. A wee run in the car and a picnic somewhere with a nice view. I told you. I like the road up to the loch. Me and Billy used to go there, when we were courting. You said you’d take me and now you’re going back on your word.’ Ruby sniffed and poked her fingers up her sleeve in search of a hanky. Violet looked on in silence, clutching her handbag to her chest.
Ruby continued with her weeping act until Tommy relented.
‘Okay,’ he said, face like thunder. ‘You win, mother. Since it’s for your birthday. But I’ll need to phone Trump Turnberry and cancel.’
‘You’d better go outside with that thing.’ Ruby pointed. ‘They don’t like folk using phones in her
e. Violet will help me on with my coat and we’ll be out in a minute.’
They waited by the window until Tommy appeared in the car park then Violet burst into nervous laughter. ‘Good God, Ruby. I thought the game was up, right there,’ she whispered.
‘Yes, damn you and your pals. I’m missing a sixty-five quid lunch at Turnberry.’
‘If this comes off, we’ll pay you back. I promise you a very posh lunch, but it won’t be at Trump’s place. And I won’t be dressed like Violet. Okay?’
‘Okay. It’s a deal. Now remind me of my part in this, just to make sure I’ve got it right.’
Violet looked round, checking for eavesdroppers.
‘Don’t fret about them,’ said Ruby, ‘they’re as deaf as that doorpost.’
Jinty appeared to be asleep, but Violet kept her voice very low; she was taking no chances. ‘All you need to do is make sure we go into a layby with no other cars in it. Then keep him chatting throughout lunch so he doesn’t notice anything strange.’
‘I can manage that. And you’ll bring me back afterwards?’ Ruby was buttoning her coat as she spoke.
‘I certainly will. Have you got a hat and gloves?’ asked Violet, as if they were going on an ordinary trip. ‘It’s quite nippy out there.’
‘Tommy’ was waiting by his car. ‘A picnic in February?’ he muttered. ‘I must be mad.’ He opened the passenger door for Ruby. She groaned and complained of aches and pains as he helped her in. Violet, as planned, sat behind the driver’s seat. She kept the picnic bag close by her side as Tommy got in, started the engine and roared out on to the main road.
***
CHAPTER 55