Torch by Lin Anderson Page B

occupants of the train in his
head. Most of the voices were Scottish although he’d spotted an
American couple near the back of his carriage. There was no one
suspicious-looking. No one except himself.
    When he spotted
Mrs MacRae gathering her luggage, Jaz got up and headed for the
door. The American couple were already there, bags piled up in
front of them. They all alighted together.
    Jaz accepted
the American couple’s offer of a ride to the village, in the hope
that both the car that picked Amy up and the taxi would head in the
same direction. They did. He was only minutes into a conversation
about the beauties of Scotland, rain and all, when the car in front
took a left turn. Jaz asked his hosts to let him off fifty yards
further along.
    ‘But there’s
nothing here,’ the woman said looking round.
    Jaz gestured in
the direction of a distant barn.
    ‘I can take a
shortcut across the fields,’ he explained. ‘Give Emperor some
exercise.’
    It had been too
easy finding them, Jaz told himself as he eased into position in
the wet undergrowth within sight of the cottage. If he could find
them, anyone could.
    MacRae’s missus
appeared at the door of the cottage an hour later followed by
another woman, obviously her mother. They had a short conversation
which Jaz strained to catch, but whatever they were saying they
didn’t want the wee girl to hear. Then the two of them headed for
the car parked in the drive and Jaz caught their last exchange.
    ‘You’ll have to
go back some time you know.’
    MacRae’s wife
didn’t look convinced.
    ‘You can’t keep
them apart. Whatever Sev is, he loves his daughter.’
    ‘I’m aware of
that,’ came the sharp reply. ‘Can we change the subject?’
    ‘I’ll be back
by teatime. You’ll be alright here on your own?’
    The response
was short and tinged with suppressed fear. ‘Of course.’
    The old woman
patted her daughter’s arm. ‘Keep Bess in the garden if Amy’s out.
She’ll look after her.’
    MacRae’s wife
tried a laugh. ‘You’re beginning to sound as paranoid as me,’ she
said.
    Jaz shifted
himself, easing the cramp that threatened his right calf. The
sodden shoulders of his parka were clamped to his skin like a neck
brace. The rain was off for the moment and watery sunshine broke
the pattern of grey. If Emps had been here he wouldn’t have been so
cold. Karen was right. Emps kept you warm.
    The door opened
and the wee girl came running out onto the grass. Behind her padded
a big golden Labrador. Jaz was glad he’d had the sense to leave
Emps in the barn. All he needed was two dogs sniffing one another
out.
    The Labrador
paced the lawn. If it caught his scent, it made no move to come
towards him, choosing instead to stay close to the girl. She was
scuffling around under a big pine tree, at last securing what she
was looking for. She threw the stick and it whizzed towards Jaz,
landing three feet in front of his hiding place. He held his breath
and lay perfectly still, planning what he would say when the dog
discovered him.
    The rheumy eyes
found the stick and the greying muzzle sniffed at it. After what
seemed a lifetime the dog lifted the stick and headed back. Jaz
hoped that would be the end of it, but no. The stick came whizzing
back. It flew over the fence to his left. Bess was making a valiant
effort this time, running as fast as her fat stomach would allow.
She stuck her nose through the fence and whined at the
irretrievable stick.
    ‘Bess!’
    The white socks
with the pink trim were on their way. He would give her another
metre then stand up. Better to pretend he was looking for his dog
than be caught lying in the undergrowth.
    ‘Amy! Where are
you?’
    The socks
stopped. The child reached down. Jaz caught a glimpse of dark hair
as she selected a different stick. He could have sworn their eyes
met, then she was up.
    ‘I’m
coming.’
    ‘I told you not
to leave the garden.’
    Amy was
indignant. ‘I didn’t leave the garden. I threw the