minutes.
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s
okay.’
He poured her
some more wine and she lifted her glass and sipped it, avoiding his
eyes.
‘I have...
there’s something on my mind at the moment,’ she apologised.
‘Work?’
‘Yes,’ she
said. It seemed easier.
‘Want to talk
about it?’
‘I don’t want
to depress you.’
‘You
won’t.’
He smiled to
reassure her.
‘Well,’ she
began. ‘I’ve been working on a case recently... a boy found
murdered in a flat.’
‘The
student?’
‘Yes,’ she
looked up puzzled. ‘How did you know?’
‘I read the
papers, and watch television.’
‘Of course.’
She felt silly. Of course the whole of Scotland knew about the
murdered boy. ‘It’s just,’ she paused, ‘this one got to me a bit.
He looked like someone I know. That’s all.’
‘I see.’ He
reached over and touched her hand. ‘Shall we skip the film?’ he
said.
‘Please.’
He waved the
waiter over and asked for the bill.
‘Look. Why
don’t we go back to my place, listen to some music...’
‘I don’t want
you to think...’
‘I don’t.’
Back in his
comfortable flat drinking coffee, Rhona told him that she should be
in Paris with Sean. She didn’t say why she hadn’t gone and he
didn’t ask. Instead he told her a bit about himself. He was forty,
not married but had lived with someone for a long time, seven years
in fact.
‘I kept asking
her to marry me and she kept saying no,’ he explained, pulling a
face. ‘She had this thing about marriage. Her father was in the
Merchant Navy so he only came home every six months. Her mother
brought up the three of them on her own. When her father came back,
he ‘wanted his place’, as she put it, and her mother agreed. The
kids didn’t. Eventually her younger brother had a stand up fight
with him in the house. She always said she would never marry.’
‘So why did you
break up?’
He hesitated as
if searching for a reason. ‘We got to this place where the road
sort of ended. She got an offer of a job down south. We said we’d
keep in touch but we didn’t.’
‘I think women
and men are incompatible,’ Rhona said. ‘Different agendas.’
‘Don’t say
that.’
‘It’s true.
Maybe being gay is the answer.’
‘Maybe it
is.’
They looked at
one another and laughed.
‘I have to go,’
she said.
‘Right. I’ll
phone for a taxi.’
He went with
her to the front door. Outside the air had turned warm. Scotland
had at last remembered it was the first week in June.
‘I never asked
you how you got my home number?’ she said.
Gavin looked
embarrassed. ‘I hacked it,’ he admitted and when she looked puzzled
he went on. ‘Everyone’s on a file somewhere. I can find out just
about anything I want to know about a person from a computer, just
like you can from their bodily fluids.’
‘1984 and all
that?’
‘That’s
right.’
The taxi drew
up.
‘Can I hack in
again sometime?’ he asked.
‘Only if I can
test your bodily fluids.’ She realised what she’d said after the
words were out.
He laughed and
raised his eyebrows.
‘Any time.’
When Rhona got
back to her flat, the green message light was flashing on the
ansaphone. She pressed the play button. It was Sean. There was
background music and half way through his message, a high-pitched
giggle, then a girl saying ‘Sean’ in a pleading voice. He said he
would try again tomorrow night and reminded her of the club phone
number. Rhona wondered why he hadn’t given her the number of the
flat where he was staying. Maybe he was staying with the giggly
girl.
The second
message was from Edward, hoping she had received the envelope.
‘I sincerely
hope, Rhona, that this will be the end of the matter.’
Rhona said shit
very loudly. She went through to the bedroom, opened the envelope
and took out the two papers and looked at them again. If Gavin
MacLean could find out all about her by hacking, maybe he could
find out more about her son.
And,
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s
okay.’
He poured her
some more wine and she lifted her glass and sipped it, avoiding his
eyes.
‘I have...
there’s something on my mind at the moment,’ she apologised.
‘Work?’
‘Yes,’ she
said. It seemed easier.
‘Want to talk
about it?’
‘I don’t want
to depress you.’
‘You
won’t.’
He smiled to
reassure her.
‘Well,’ she
began. ‘I’ve been working on a case recently... a boy found
murdered in a flat.’
‘The
student?’
‘Yes,’ she
looked up puzzled. ‘How did you know?’
‘I read the
papers, and watch television.’
‘Of course.’
She felt silly. Of course the whole of Scotland knew about the
murdered boy. ‘It’s just,’ she paused, ‘this one got to me a bit.
He looked like someone I know. That’s all.’
‘I see.’ He
reached over and touched her hand. ‘Shall we skip the film?’ he
said.
‘Please.’
He waved the
waiter over and asked for the bill.
‘Look. Why
don’t we go back to my place, listen to some music...’
‘I don’t want
you to think...’
‘I don’t.’
Back in his
comfortable flat drinking coffee, Rhona told him that she should be
in Paris with Sean. She didn’t say why she hadn’t gone and he
didn’t ask. Instead he told her a bit about himself. He was forty,
not married but had lived with someone for a long time, seven years
in fact.
‘I kept asking
her to marry me and she kept saying no,’ he explained, pulling a
face. ‘She had this thing about marriage. Her father was in the
Merchant Navy so he only came home every six months. Her mother
brought up the three of them on her own. When her father came back,
he ‘wanted his place’, as she put it, and her mother agreed. The
kids didn’t. Eventually her younger brother had a stand up fight
with him in the house. She always said she would never marry.’
‘So why did you
break up?’
He hesitated as
if searching for a reason. ‘We got to this place where the road
sort of ended. She got an offer of a job down south. We said we’d
keep in touch but we didn’t.’
‘I think women
and men are incompatible,’ Rhona said. ‘Different agendas.’
‘Don’t say
that.’
‘It’s true.
Maybe being gay is the answer.’
‘Maybe it
is.’
They looked at
one another and laughed.
‘I have to go,’
she said.
‘Right. I’ll
phone for a taxi.’
He went with
her to the front door. Outside the air had turned warm. Scotland
had at last remembered it was the first week in June.
‘I never asked
you how you got my home number?’ she said.
Gavin looked
embarrassed. ‘I hacked it,’ he admitted and when she looked puzzled
he went on. ‘Everyone’s on a file somewhere. I can find out just
about anything I want to know about a person from a computer, just
like you can from their bodily fluids.’
‘1984 and all
that?’
‘That’s
right.’
The taxi drew
up.
‘Can I hack in
again sometime?’ he asked.
‘Only if I can
test your bodily fluids.’ She realised what she’d said after the
words were out.
He laughed and
raised his eyebrows.
‘Any time.’
When Rhona got
back to her flat, the green message light was flashing on the
ansaphone. She pressed the play button. It was Sean. There was
background music and half way through his message, a high-pitched
giggle, then a girl saying ‘Sean’ in a pleading voice. He said he
would try again tomorrow night and reminded her of the club phone
number. Rhona wondered why he hadn’t given her the number of the
flat where he was staying. Maybe he was staying with the giggly
girl.
The second
message was from Edward, hoping she had received the envelope.
‘I sincerely
hope, Rhona, that this will be the end of the matter.’
Rhona said shit
very loudly. She went through to the bedroom, opened the envelope
and took out the two papers and looked at them again. If Gavin
MacLean could find out all about her by hacking, maybe he could
find out more about her son.
And,
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