No Stranger to Death: A Scottish mystery where cosy crime meets tartan noir: Borders Mysteries Book 1 (24 page)

‘Girls, take Mummy into the lounge,’ Jean said. ‘You can show her your toys.’ Giving Alice no chance to argue, she turned and went into the kitchen. Kate and Zoe followed.

Jean sat down on a stool, biting back tears.

‘Is there anything we can do?’ Zoe asked.

‘I need to speak to Tom.’ Jean reached for the phone on the kitchen wall. At the end of a brief conversation, she told Tom to be quick and put the phone down. ‘He’s just finishing off at the Auld Manse, so it won’t take him long to drive home. Will you help me stop her from taking them away until then?’

‘Of course,’ Kate said. ‘Why don’t you put the kettle on and I’ll go and suggest the girls change out of their party frocks. It’ll take a while if they’re anything like mine were at that age.’

Alice declined the offer of tea and said there was no need for the girls to change. She got up from the sofa and said, ‘Come on you two.’

The twins obediently put down the identical dolls they had been showing their mother and followed her into the hall.

‘Tom’s coming home,’ Zoe said. ‘He wants to see you.’

‘I bet he does. I’ll see him when we get back. Terry’s been waiting out in the car for long enough.’

One of the girls – Zoe guessed it was Maddy – asked if Jean could come too. Their mother’s curt reply did nothing to reassure them, and when Jean came out of the kitchen a moment later they ran to her.

Alice glared at Jean. ‘Come on kids, let’s go. Terry’s waiting for us. You’ll like him.’ When neither twin moved, the forced jocularity in her voice vanished. ‘I said come on!’

Too young to understand their mother’s anger was not directed at themselves, Angie and Maddy burst into tears simultaneously and clung more tightly to Jean.

Tom took in this scene as he entered the house seconds later. While doing his best to combine greeting his daughters with keeping them clear of his dirty work clothes, he fixed Alice with a stare from a pair of eyes that glowed pale out of a face black with soot.

‘We’ll talk about this outside. Now.’

Jean went to the hall cupboard and pulled out the bags of clothes she had put in there earlier. ‘Look girls. See what Auntie Kate’s brought for you. New clothes.’

The mood in the house quickly lifted with Alice gone. Zoe sat in the lounge drinking tea, watching Kate and Jean help the twins try on assorted dresses, T-shirts and trousers, fastening buttons and doing up zips, then unfastening and undoing them. It was nearly dark, but when she got up to look out of the window she saw a light above the front door was illuminating the confrontation taking place in the garden. Halfway down the path, Tom sat on a low stone wall and looked up at his ex-wife as she stood over him, wagging a finger.

Kate’s lip-reading skills would have been useful, but Zoe did not need to know the actual words passing between them to realise Alice had the upper hand. Tom looked defeated and at one point held his head in his hands. Whatever it was Alice had learnt from her mother and was now threatening him with must be very serious indeed.

Jean came alongside Zoe and peered anxiously out of the window. ‘Can you see them? Is Tom all right?’

‘He’s coming in now. And she’s leaving.’

As Jean dashed out to the hall, Zoe rejoined Kate, who was explaining to the twins what being deaf meant. They listened intently then returned to trying on clothes, but Zoe noticed how they subsequently made a point of touching Kate lightly on the hand before speaking to her.

Jean reappeared a few minutes later followed by Tom, who had changed into a navy blue towelling gown.

‘She doesn’t like me walking around in my work gear,’ he said. ‘I’ll have a shower in a minute.’

‘We’d better be going.’ Zoe got to her feet.

‘What did Alice say?’ Kate asked.

Everyone turned to look at the girls playing on the floor.

‘I’m seeing her tomorrow,’ Tom said quietly. ‘At my house. To have a proper talk.’

‘Don’t let her bully you,’ Kate said.

‘You may want to take legal advice before agreeing to anything,’ Zoe said.

It was clear Tom’s thoughts were elsewhere. He nodded absently and left the room without saying goodbye.

Kate and Zoe were not far from Keeper’s Cottage when a vehicle coming towards them flashed its headlights several times for no apparent reason.

‘Bloody idiot,’ Kate said as it went slowly past them. She looked in her rear-view mirror. ‘He’s stopped. And now he’s turning.’

Zoe twisted herself round in her seat to see out of the back window. She could not have done that the day before, although the manoeuvre still hurt a little. ‘I think it’s Neil.’

Kate looked at her. ‘It’s Neil,’ Zoe repeated.

‘Well I’m not stopping. He’ll have to follow us back to your place.’

Minutes later, Kate brought her car to a halt on the road outside Keeper’s Cottage and Neil’s Land Rover pulled in behind them.

‘I’ll leave you to deal with him,’ Kate said as Zoe climbed out. ‘Sorry, but I’m already late collecting the bairns.’ She drove off.

Zoe folded her arms and watched Neil approach.

‘Hi,’ he said.

‘Hello.’

‘Can we go in? It’s cold out here. Although from the look on your face it won’t be much warmer indoors.’

Zoe unlocked the front door and gained irrational satisfaction at seeing Mac give Neil no more than a cursory sniff before throwing himself at her.

‘Did you think you’d never see me again?’ she said to the dog, hugging him. ‘Let’s go through into the sitting room,’ she told Neil, without looking at him.

The fire was down to its final embers, so Zoe busied herself adding some kindling and opening up the woodburner’s air flow. Then she turned to Neil. He had sat down, but jumped up again as soon as he saw her face, putting his hands out in what was now a familiar gesture of capitulation.

‘I can only think I’ve incurred your wrath this time by phoning the health centre and asking Margaret how you were.’

‘Don’t you know the meaning of the word “discretion”?’

‘I wanted to check you were okay.’

‘That was considerate of you, but was it necessary to virtually tell her you’d stayed here overnight?’

‘Does it matter? You know Margaret can be trusted – she works for you.’

Zoe groaned in frustration. ‘That’s my point.’ She swept back a lock of hair which had escaped from her ponytail. ‘I’ve given up on you ever understanding, but I don’t want the rest of the world knowing about my personal life. If this relationship stands any chance, it has to develop quietly and slowly.’

‘I’m not a quiet, slow person.’

‘That’s obvious. But if you can’t respect my most basic need for privacy it isn’t going to happen at all.’

Neil reached out and gently took hold of Zoe’s upper arms. Receiving no reprimand, he pulled her a little closer. ‘I promise I’ll try harder,’ he said. ‘But do one thing for me, will you? Next time I annoy you – and we both know there will be a next time – tell me to my face. Don’t just keep avoiding me.’

‘I haven’t been avoiding you.’

‘So I’ve been unlucky every time I phoned and each time I dropped by?’

‘Of course. Where did you think I was – hiding behind the bookcase?’

‘I knew you weren’t doing that. I peered in through the window.’

Despite her best efforts to stay stern-faced, Zoe smiled. ‘You must have sent poor Mac crazy.’ She disengaged herself from Neil’s grasp. ‘I suppose I’d better get us both a drink.’

‘Thanks, but I’ve arranged to meet some mates. I just wanted to check we’re still on for next Saturday night. I’ve booked a table.’

‘As long as you don’t go around telling everyone.’

‘So you want me to cancel the ad I’ve taken out in the
Berwickshire News
?’

‘What time?’

‘I’ll collect you at seven.’ Neil pulled on his hat. Zoe was startled at how much this changed his appearance, and wondered what he looked like with a full head of hair. Maybe she would get to see a photograph one day.

‘Can I ask one final thing before I go?’

‘What?’ Zoe asked warily.

‘Please will you give me your mobile number?’

‘You’re determined to track me down wherever I go, aren’t you?’’

‘No. You’ll still have the option not to take my calls, but at least I can leave a message. It’s not much to ask from a man who’s going to buy you a slap-up meal, is it?’

Chapter 29

Monday morning was the coldest yet of Zoe’s first Scottish winter. She found a layer of ice on the inside of the bathroom window and spotted the cat slinking into the living room to curl up on Mac’s armchair.
He wasn’t going to like that
.

Despite energetically working the lever which sent ash tumbling into the pan below, she could not persuade the woodburner to perform with its usual gusto and resolved to call Tom later, once she got his number from the business card display in the shop’s window. However, stopping there would have to wait until lunchtime. Mac’s morning walk started later every day, now that it got light so much later, and she was already running behind schedule.

She had not put the hire car away, so its windscreen had iced up overnight. It might be a safe, sensible drive, but it did not come equipped with a scraper or a de icing spray, so she was further delayed by having to turn on the engine and wait for the windows to defrost from the inside.

Walter was standing at the reception desk talking to Margaret when Zoe rushed in. He broke off their conversation to look pointedly at his watch.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ Zoe said.

Walter tutted. At first she thought he was joking, but he continued to frown.

‘It’s only five minutes.’

‘What would happen if we were all only five minutes late?’ Walter glanced towards Margaret for support, but she stared at her computer screen.

‘I’ve got a little time before my surgery starts.’

‘Your first patient is already here.’

‘Then he’s early. He can’t have had to scrape ice off his car.’

‘You’re living in Scotland now. You must allow for that sort of thing.’

Her face reddening, Zoe turned and strode to her consulting room.

After that discouraging start, the morning rolled by surprisingly quickly, despite some patients still seeming keener to enquire about her health than discuss what was wrong with their own. By the time surgery finished she was almost able to remember why she trained to be a doctor in the first place.

Then Walter came in and stood stiffly in front of her desk.

‘I’d ask you not to argue with me in front of the clerical staff,’ he said. ‘Please remember I’m a partner in this practice.’

Resisting the urge to shout, ‘You started it,’ Zoe swallowed hard. When she trusted herself to speak, she said, ‘Walter, I’m well aware that you’re a partner and I’m not. But the same principle applies when you wish to reprimand me. I’d prefer you did it behind closed doors.’

Walter studied her in silence, then stomped from the room. Dropping the pen onto her desk, Zoe slumped in her chair and groaned. She couldn’t go on like this.

Leaving the health centre a few minutes later, she drove the short distance to the shop, trying to take her mind off Walter by listening to the radio. For the first time in ages, Radio Borders made no mention of Westerlea in its news bulletin.

She had not been to the shop since giving Lisa the contact details of the abortion clinic, and was anxious to know if the young woman had done anything with this information. However, after her earlier brush with Walter, the last thing she needed was a run-in with Brian, so she bypassed the shop’s front door and stopped at the window displaying business cards and For Sale notices.

‘Not coming in today?’

Startled, Zoe looked up from her mobile. ‘My chimney needs sweeping,’ she said. ‘I’m just taking down Tom Watson’s number.’

Brian stood at the shop door, arms folded. ‘Or maybe you saw I was here.’

‘No surprise there. It’s your shop.’

‘I know what you’re up to, Doctor.’

Zoe looked around. Luckily, no one was nearby. She did not want to be seen arguing out on the pavement. ‘You’ve misunderstood my intentions.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Brian took a few steps forward, delivering a blast of bad breath which reminded Zoe of their encounter some days earlier. ‘I’ve only got one thing to say to you.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Stop interfering in other people’s lives.’

‘I’m a doctor, Brian. If someone asks for my advice on a medical matter, I’ll try to help them. That may mean prescribing a course of medication or perhaps referring them to a specialist. But there are instances when only the patient can decide what course of action is best for them.’

‘She’s not your bloody patient.’

Zoe bowed her head in acknowledgement of this fact. ‘I’m only trying to help Lisa reach an informed decision.’

‘Oh really?’ Brian’s voice was mocking.

‘Why are you so keen for your wife to have an abortion?’

‘I don’t have to tell you. The girl knows what she needs to do. She’s always done what she’s told and I don’t intend to let some do-good pro-lifer change that.’

‘I have no personal axe to grind on the subject of abortion. I merely believe that Lisa is right to be considering all the options. You should be supporting her.’

‘Don’t tell me what I should be doing. I’m not your patient either. I could report you to the authorities for misconduct, I could.’

‘In which case there’s nothing more to be said.’

‘Just remember, I don’t want you talking to my Lisa again.’ Brian thrust his face up close to Zoe’s. ‘Not here, not at the health centre, not at your place. I’ve told her and now I’m telling you.’

‘If Lisa comes to see me, I won’t turn her away.’

‘She won’t be coming anywhere near you again. I’ll see to that.’ Brian turned and went inside.

Zoe got into her car.
What a creep that man was
. Now she was going to have to be more organised and do a weekly shop somewhere else. Or order what she needed online, like she used to.

Given Brian’s hostility, it was a relief to speak with Tom, who sounded genuinely pleased to hear from her. He apologised that the first appointment he could offer her was Wednesday morning, far sooner than Zoe had expected.