In Plain Sight
Page 29
‘Great. I’ll call her and fix a date. Actually, Clare, there was something I wanted to ask you. Something I think you’ll like. I’ll come and see you tonight.’
All at once, Clare’s stomach felt full of butterflies. Something he wanted to ask her. She rose from the sofa and carried her tray through to the kitchen, tidying away the pizza box and putting her plate and glass in the sink.
Something he wanted to ask her. Something he thought she would like.
And then she remembered Jude. Her sister who she had promised to phone. It felt like weeks ago, although it had only been a couple of days. She sank back down on the sofa and dialled.
‘Jude,’ she said when her sister answered. ‘I’m so sorry I’ve not been in touch. Work’s been shitty.’
Clare’s sister sounded better than she had earlier in the week. ‘Oh Clare, it must have been awful. I followed it on the news. I’m so glad the baby’s all right, but that poor man. How will he cope?’
They chatted on for a few minutes, Clare trying to steer the conversation away from work. Finally, when her sister drew breath, Clare said, ‘Jude, how are things? I mean, James…’
There was a sigh at the other end. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean, nothing’s changed. James is still as sweet as ever. Still doing all the things he should be, only now I’m watching him like a hawk. Trying to work out if he’s – well, different. It’s horrible, really. I seem to have lost the joy.’
Clare let her talk. Let her work through what she thought about James.
‘The good news is that he’s been referred to a specialist. We should have the appointment in a couple of weeks. So at least we’ll get a proper diagnosis.’
The conversation ended with a loud wailing at the other end.
‘I have to go,’ Jude said. ‘He’s bumped his head.’
‘Jude, I thought I might come through on Sunday.’
‘Clare, that would be lovely. Oh, James! Your poor head. Clare, look, I’d better go. Speak soon. Love to Geoff.’
* * *
Clare sat back, the phone still in her hand, wondering. If James was autistic, what did that mean for his future? For all of them? She’d have to try and make more time for them. Let the job take a back seat and lift some of the load from Jude’s shoulders. She looked round the room. Having the heating working made all the difference. It was starting to feel like home. Maybe she could have James to stay for a few days. Give Jude a break.
She rose from the sofa and began tidying the sitting room. It would be lovely for Geoff to come into a warm and inviting house, instead of the freezing barn it had been of late. Maybe she could cook something. But she was full of pizza now and dog-tired. She really couldn’t be bothered. She went upstairs to her bedroom and sat at the dressing table. Possibly the first time she had done so without shivering. She clicked the switch above the mirror and peered at her face. The events of the past few days were clearly etched onto it, and she opened her make-up bag to try and make herself look presentable. Then she picked up a brush and pulled it through her hair. She wondered idly if she ought to grow it longer, maybe have a few highlights put in. She had more than a few silver hairs now, peppering the dark. Any more cases like Abi Mitchell and she’d be white-haired.
The doorbell rang. She switched off the lamp and ran downstairs to meet Geoffrey.
He entered, marvelling at the heat and the absence of holes in the floor. Then he took her in his arms and held her close. ‘I’m so glad that case is over for you.’
Clare led him into the kitchen where she retrieved the Chianti and fresh glasses. ‘Still a fair bit to do.’ She poured the wine and handed him a glass. ‘The couple we arrested are unlikely to plead guilty so we’ve a case to build, but it’s looking hopeful. And we did catch them red-handed with the baby.’
Clare chattered on as Geoffrey sipped his wine. She knew she was talking too much but she was suddenly nervous. Then she found her courage.
‘There was something you wanted to ask?’ she said, taking another slug of wine to calm her nerves. She scanned him, his jacket. Was there a ring box concealed in there? Ridiculous, she thought. It was far too early in their relationship but, after Tom’s visit, maybe love was in the air. It really did seem as if he was going to ask her…
His face lit up. ‘I’ve been offered the most marvellous opportunity,’ he said. ‘It’s a guest lecturing role in Boston. For a year, initially, possibly extending up to five. It depends partly on funding and partly on me. Have you been? It’s the most wonderful city.’
‘Boston?’ Clare didn’t know what else to say.
He took her hand in his. ‘Clare, I wondered how would you feel about coming with me? The college I’ll be working at has an International Law Department. You could maybe do some teaching? Choose your own topics. The Scottish Criminal System, that sort of thing. I’m sure I could swing it. Oh Clare, just think about it. What fun we’d have.’
Her mouth was dry and her cheeks felt hot. He wasn’t asking her to marry him at all. He wanted her to give up her job, her cottage, to move three thousand miles away. She would be leaving Jude and James. Chris and Sara. Jim and his wife Mary, struggling with multiple problems since her stroke.
And to do what?
‘I don’t know how to teach,’ she managed to say. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’
He laughed. ‘It’s easy. Honestly. I bet you do it every day at the police station. Training youngsters. You just don’t know you’re doing it.’
‘But lesson plans and exams and things. Geoff, I haven’t a clue.’ A bark from the floor reminded her. ‘And there’s Benjy. What would happen to him?’
He laughed again. ‘Clare, all these things can be managed. They’re just trivial problems. If you really want to go, we’ll make it happen. It’s such a great opportunity. I mean, do you want to be stuck here for the rest of your life?’
His words stung. Stuck here? What did that mean? Clare loved St Andrews and she loved her job. She loved her sister, her nephew James and she loved her little dog Benjy so dearly. She had thought, too, that she loved Geoffrey. But now she was wondering if she even knew him at all. How could he have planned all this and Clare not even realise?
She stared him. He was smiling. Confident and relaxed. He was so sure of everything. So completely at ease with himself. Was there any room in his life for her plans? Or was she simply an adjunct to his?
‘I thought…’ she began, then stopped herself. She was embarrassed now. Mortified. How could she have thought he was going to ask her to marry him?
‘What did you think?’
She shook her head. ‘Doesn’t matter.’
‘What is it?’
‘Geoff,’ she said, ‘I don’t know. I’m – I’m not sure I can come.’
He blinked. ‘Really? I mean, what’s to keep you here?’
Clare looked at him for a minute. Then she said, ‘If you don’t know that, Geoff, I doubt I could explain it.’
And she rose from her seat, planted a kiss on his forehead and carried her wine glass into the kitchen.
Acknowledgments
I’m so grateful to the many friends who have kindly shared their knowledge and experience, in particular Ray Banks, Richard Renwick, Alan Rankin and my good friend Isabel. Any errors in the narrative are entirely mine.
As usual my family act patiently as sounding boards for ideas and plots, and they bear my endless questions with equanimity. To Iain, Stuart, Kenneth, Ally, Euan, Alicia and Peter, my grateful thanks – stand by for book three!
In Plain Sight is a work of fiction and, as such, I have taken some liberties with beautiful St Andrews and the surrounding area. Priory Marsh, McIntosh Water and NEFEW exist only in my head and, of course, in Clare’s world. Similarly, I have created a version of Police Scotland its officers may not entirely recognise, but I hope they will balance this against DI Clare Mackay’s excellent clear-up rate.
Finally, to my wonderful agent Hannah Weatherill o
f Northbank Talent Management and to my incredible editor at Canelo, Louise Cullen: I am so grateful to you both for your help and support, which both sustains and inspires me.
Detective Clare Mackay
See Them Run
In Plain Sight
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First published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by Canelo
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Copyright © Marion Todd, 2020
The moral right of Marion Todd to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788637480
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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