When Sorry Is Not Enough (20 page)

Deciding it would not be politic to agree with her, that with the both of them now being on the wrong side of eighty she was right, Sally just smiled.

‘Anyway, what I want to ask you is, seeing Lois has everything sorted out, better than we could ever have imagined, I was wondering how much of a backhander I should give her?’

‘Eh,’ was all Sally could utter.

‘Well as you know we’ve signed all the papers. Work has started on the new boundaries …’ Flora stopped, sniffed and tittered. ‘I just can’t believe it. Sally, it’s the best thing that could have happened. We’re in the money and still able to bide in our own homes and also sort out …’ She sighed. ‘How on earth did we manage to have two laddies, both in their sixties that still bring us home all their dirty … washing?’

It was difficult for Sally to suppress her laughter. In all the years she had known Flora she hadn’t changed. She was a devoted family person who called a spade a spade. Harry, her only son, had been a disappointment to her. Sally remembered when he had left her and her three bairns, Flora’s beloved grandchildren, she had shunned Harry. If anyone knew how difficult that was to do then it was Sally – how often did she wish herself that she could brush off Margo?

‘Sally,’ Flora’s shrill voice echoed, ‘pay attention. Now Lois didn’t charge a fee. She did pay all the rest of them professional-like folk their dues but she said her work was a present for us.’

‘So?’ mumbled Sally who thought,
A ‘present’, eh? Little do you know I had already said I would pay! Mmm. That lassie is learning.

Tutting and trying to rock her head off her shoulders, Flora spluttered, ‘There is more than enough left after I buy a house for Harry to see the lassie right.’

‘Know something, Flora? Sometimes the right thing to do is to accept a present graciously. What I’m saying is the lassie has put forward a hand in friendship – grasp it firmly.’

When Sally’s car slowly crept past the taxi rank in the Waverley station a cabby enjoying a cigarette outside his cab shouted, ‘Here, Sally, no content are you with running your pubs that you’ve had to get yourself into the car hire business an all?’

Waving her right hand out of her open window Sally replied, ‘Nice to see you, Willie, and aye, with the number of times I’ve been up here lately, I think I am a taxi driver.’

She had just parked the car when she was startled by the back door suddenly flying open followed by a loud thud. Before she knew what was going on her driver’s door was thrown wide and Luke growled, ‘Right, move over.’

‘Move over? This is my car. And why you decided to hand back your hired one in London and come back by train is a mystery to me.’

‘Oh, Sally, stop carping. You know I had to get back quick and that hired car – do you know where I really should have driven it?’

‘No.’

‘Johansson junk yard on Salamander Street.’ Rattling his fingers off the car roof he chirped, ‘So shift your backside because I have no desire to be put in a state of fear and alarm by your driving.’

Without another word of protest Sally got out of the driver’s seat and, adopting a sullen air, strode around the car and got into the passenger’s seat.

For a full ten minutes not a word passed between them. They were approaching the traffic lights at Meadowbank before Luke broke the silence. ‘Penny for them, Sally,’ he cackled.

‘Oh, I was just thinking back to that day in the Four Marys when old Jock told us that he had fathered us both. Overjoyed I was …’

‘So was I,’ he replied, patting her knee.

‘That right?’ she hissed before adopting an insincere melodic tone to simper, ‘Yes, fool that I am I was just so delighted to discover that you were my wonderful full brother!’

‘Is this all because I, a police advanced driver, thought I should take the stress off you and drive home?’

‘Advanced pompous police idiot is what you are! Don’t you understand that I’m trying to get my confidence back since I was involved in that blooming accident?’

He lightly tapped her knee again. ‘Please,’ he implored, ‘no tears.’ He then took time to deliberate before softly saying, ‘Now, be truthful … it’s not so much me taking over the driving today because I know you like me being your chauffeur … admit it, you were looking for an excuse to hit out at someone.’

She turned her head away from him. No way did she wish him to see that he was right and that her heart was broken. Tired she was of her life being like the bible; so many fat times followed so quickly by another dose of the lean.

‘Here,’ Luke jovially chorused, as her knee got another slap, ‘do you know what? She said … yes!’

Rubbing under her nose Sally speered, ‘Are you saying that you and Spring are going to be … ?’

‘Uh huh,’ he chorused, ‘next summer in Hong Kong. Now is that not something for you to look forward to?’

Sally chuckled. ‘Hong Kong next summer! Now I just have to start saving for that.’

It seemed only sensible to Sally that Luke, after seeing Flora and Shonag safely on to the early-afternoon Inverness train, should just go and have a coffee and wait for Irish’s mother whose train was due to arrive an hour later.

He’d left the car in the station car park and then run up the Waverley Steps and on to Princes Street. He had turned towards the North British Hotel where he wished to make tentative enquiries about how much a double room would cost for three nights. This information was being sought because he had toyed with the idea of inviting Spring to come up to Edinburgh for three days before the end of his leave. He was so in love with her that he wished his nearest and dearest to meet her. It was only proper, he argued, that Sally and Josie should get acquainted with Spring before next year’s wedding. Under normal circumstances she could have just bunked in with him but … well … Sally just hadn’t moved with the times and she’d be expecting Spring, like she had done herself when she moved in with Flora, to share Sally’s sleeping accommodation or have a single room to herself. He grimaced. No way would Sally accept that Spring was getting married in white if she was still not a virgin! Luke chuckled as he thought that with the way things were going, white weddings would soon be a thing of the past.

He was just about to mount the steps of the hotel when his attention was drawn to the paper vendor on the other side of Princes Street. The man was shouting, ‘Read all about it. Young lassie hauled out of Newhaven Harbour.’

Traffic lights had been installed on this General Post Office junction since 1971 which included a pedestrian phase. Nonetheless, Luke was in such haste that he could not or would not wait for the signal that he could cross in safety. To the amazement of the foot-travellers he dashed out into the street and began dodging through cars, buses and lorries. Once he arrived on the north pavement the paper seller remarked, ‘Tired of living, son?’

Shaking his head Luke pressed some coins into the man’s outstretched hand and grabbed an
Edinburgh Evening News
from him.

So engrossed did he become in the lead story that he had to be restrained by the vendor when he unconsciously started to step back out into the traffic again. ‘Look, son,’ the vender shouted, ‘you might be suicidal but see they bus drivers, they dinnae want to get catapulted through their windscreen because they had to brake to miss you.’

‘Look. Look. It’s another one,’ Luke mumbled while drawing the man’s attention to the fate of the young woman.

‘I’ve read the story,’ the man huffed. ‘She’s probably just a whore. Naebudy will miss her, no even her customers. Ten a penny lassies like her are.’

The pedestrian signal had now turned to green and as if in a trance Luke made his way back over Princes Street and then down into the station again.

Sally had the right personality to be a guest house owner. She had that special knack of making everybody feel as if they were the most important person to her and that they were doing her a favour by staying in her house. Where Mrs Kelly was concerned, the foregoing was true.

‘Did you have a good journey?’

‘Aye, I did that. Do you know it seems such a long time since I’ve seen my boy. The last time was in the holding cell of your High Court. Been through the wringer he has since then.’ Sally nodded. Luke brought in a teapot which Sally took from him so she could play mother.

‘Back in a minute,’ Luke called back to them as he dashed out of the room.

Sally immediately poured a cup of tea for Mrs Kelly. No sooner had Sally handed the steaming beverage to her guest than she began to sip from it. While savouring the tea she began tentatively, ‘Do you think there really is a chance he’ll get out?’ Sally encouraged Mrs Kelly’s enthusiasm with a smile. ‘You see, I just want people to know the truth – see my boy as I see him – know that he’s no killer.’

‘I don’t often make prophesies Mrs Kelly, and I don’t know why but for weeks now I have had this feeling that everything will work out for your son.’

A comfortable silence fell between the two women. Nothing was heard except the ticking of the clock until Luke burst into the room brandishing the newspaper.

‘Is the house on fire or something?’ shrieked Sally, jumping to her feet.

‘No. No. Read this. I’ve just spoken to our brother John, and he says that all he knows at the moment is that all leave is cancelled for all Edinburgh detectives.’

Grabbing the paper from him Sally questioned, ‘But why?’

‘Well, even Holmes and Watson will be asking themselves if this is a copycat killing like Marie or …’

‘Another of the same,’ Sally whispered, ‘and carried out by the person or persons who did for … Marie.’

Mrs Kelly, whose eyes had bulged with fear when Luke had thundered in, quietly got up and stood alongside Sally so she too could read from the newspaper. ‘What does this mean?’ she beseeched.

Turning her face fully to look directly at Mrs Kelly, Sally mumbled, ‘It may mean nothing. But one thing for sure is that one way or another it is good news.’

Mrs Kelly shied away from Sally. ‘Good news! What kind of a person are you that you would think that a young woman being murdered and dumped in a harbour is good news?’

Putting out her hand to calm Mrs Kelly, Sally stuttered, ‘No. No. You haven’t quite grasped what I was implying. It’s not good news that the lassie met such an awful end, of course it’s not, and I’m not suggesting that. The good news is that because there is another death similar to Marie’s it means that it will strengthen Irish’s miscarriage of justice case.’ Mrs Kelly was still quite uptight and agitated so Sally added, ‘My son, Bobby, said to Luke, only last week, that he was sure he was going to win Joe’s case for you but to be doubly certain he could do with something else that would cause the judges to really doubt.’

Mrs Kelly began to rub her hands together. ‘I see. You are a good woman and a true friend to my boy.’ Sally nodded. Both women were awash with emotion. ‘My name,’ Mrs Kelly said, taking Sally’s hand in hers, ‘is Kathleen, please call me that.’

Sally returned to the living room having shown Kathleen, who was not only exhausted from her journey but from the emotions that had been stirred up in her by the article in the evening paper, to her room.

Luke, telephone against his ear, put up a hand to silence Sally when she tried to speak to him. ‘Okay, John,’ she heard him say, ‘I know they will be playing their cards close to their chest but if you hear anything, even a squeak, then ring me.’

‘What was all that about?’

‘Just that I thought I would ring John again as there may have been developments.’

‘In fifteen minutes?’ huffed Sally.

‘Okay,’ Luke sniped. ‘But you never can tell. They could have got a name for the woman in that time.’

‘Is it Jessie Scott?’

‘Could be,’ Luke mumbled, ‘but unfortunately no positive identification yet.’

‘What do you think?’

‘Well they can hardly blame Irish this time. Surely being locked up in a secure penitentiary can be nothing other than a cast-iron alibi.’

‘You think that there are similarities between Marie’s death and this one?’

Luke was now staring out of the window. He lifted his hand and waved at a small boat that was sailing down the Forth. A man on board then waved back frantically. ‘Sally,’ he said, squinting, ‘do you think that man is waving to me or has his boat lost power and it’s now drifting out of control?’

Looking at the boat, and in particular to the man who had now removed his shirt and was waving it frantically to attract their attention, Sally gasped, ‘Oh, Luke, the poor soul is being swept along by the current. Quick, phone the police and coastguard.’

Without a doubt the emergency services in Scotland are second to none. Sally had just watched the poor man and his boat disappear from sight as the undertow sucked them towards Musselburgh and beyond when the coastguard rescue launch came into sight.

She was about to turn around to tell Luke about the salvage vessel when a police car, siren blaring and warning light flashing, drew up just before the Rockville restaurant. The two officers had just jumped out from their vehicle when they were approached by a sprinting Luke.

Still looking out from a window but now from the upstairs lounge, Sally thought how typical it was of Luke to shake hands with the officer who was not receiving messages through his radio. Sally noted that once the radio was switched off both constables then engaged in an animated conversation with Luke. If Sally hadn’t known otherwise she would have judged the trio were friends enjoying a prearranged meeting.

Nonetheless, the congregation was called to an abrupt end when one of the constables lifted his radio to his ear again. While still conversing on the phone the officer signalled urgently to his colleague and the duo jumped into the police car and it sped off.

Patience was not one of Sally’s strong points and by the time Luke was re-entering the house Sally, tapping her foot impatiently, had taken up a stance in the hallway. ‘What a time you’ve been and what were you and those officers talking about?’

Luke grabbed her by the arm and steered her towards the back kitchen. ‘Ssssh,’ he said, putting a finger over his lips, ‘I don’t wish anyone to hear what I have to say. At first, and by the way I’d worked with the older of the two guys when we were both stationed at Leith, we spoke about the man in the boat. Here I’m pleased to say that all is under control. According to the messages they received, the boat is securely under tow and will be arriving at Musselburgh harbour as we speak. Then I pretended I was a bit naive and I asked if they knew if there was any identification yet on the body fished out of Newhaven Harbour.’