She put the last piece of steak in her mouth, it tasted wonderful with the smoked paprika and garlic. She took a sip of Rioja and smiled at Thomas across the table. He touched his stomach then held her hand.
‘That was wonderful,’ he said.
They were in the kitchen, candle on the table, the thump of The Blood Queens rehearsing upstairs. It was the nearest they got to a romantic night in. Dorothy was never alone these days but she liked it that way. She’d had decades of quiet in the funeral home, now the place was bursting with young women and pets, and currently Thomas. She leaned over and kissed him. He was smooth shaven, tasted of red wine and garlic. He looked younger than his fifty-six years, and she hoped she’d aged as well as him. She didn’t look in the mirror much these days, but Thomas liked what he saw and she was happy with that. Life’s too short to indulge your hang-ups, she’d learned that over the years.
She and Thomas were both widowed, both knew about the sad reality of love in the world. It was great while it lasted but it always ended, just like everything else. But the transience of life was to be revelled in, not reviled. It made moments like this, holding hands and kissing over a steak dinner, more precious.
Thomas was handsome, grey hair at the temples, smooth skin, toned body for his age. But it was his eyes, and everything behind them, she really loved. Their sex had a gentle pragmatism, they weren’t teenagers hard at it. But there was playfulness too. When you’d only had sex with the same partner for decades, this was a chance to have fun. The way he touched her made her feel electric again.
The music upstairs stopped. Einstein raised his head from a chair and stuck his ears up. Schrödinger stayed dozing on the other seat at the window. Those two never played together but they were always within a few yards of each other. Schrödinger pretended to hate the dog, but he loved that shadow. Maybe the cat had seen enough to realise you take your companionship where you can.
Thomas glanced at the ceiling. ‘They’re sounding better.’
‘I’m sorry we don’t have the place to ourselves.’
Thomas kissed her. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
Hannah and Indy were out for a meal at Montpelier’s around the corner. It was unusually fancy for them, a belated engagement celebration. So much had happened since Indy got on one knee. They made a wonderful couple, but no one knows how love will go in the future. Dorothy’s age made her more philosophical about life but the truth was she’d always tended towards that kind of thing. She enjoyed the spirituality of helping people in the funeral business, had been devoted to yoga as long as her body held out, had dabbled with Buddhism over the years. The interconnectedness of all things was such an obvious idea, she was delighted when Hannah confirmed the same idea in modern physics. It took science hundreds of years to get to the point Buddha made millennia ago.
Jenny was at Fiona’s in Cramond. That was a strange one, her daughter now friends with the woman who had an affair with her ex-husband. But they had so much in common, both betrayed by Craig, both with a daughter by him, both struggling with what that meant. But Jenny was coping well, considering. Dorothy ached to think of her daughter in pain, but it was her life and Dorothy had to let her live it.
The Blood Queens started again, Kazuko screaming over a belting riff. It sounded great, Abi tight on the kick, locked in with Taylor. Dorothy was so happy Abi had the band. She kissed Thomas and thought about sex. Maybe in a while, her belly was still full.
The doorbell rang downstairs. She looked out of the window, it was late evening but still light. She imagined the big cat pawing its way through the park to her front door. She remembered reading The Tiger Who Came to Tea with Jenny when she was little, neither of them liked it, and Jenny moved on to Peanuts cartoons.
Dorothy looked at Thomas. No one should be ringing the doorbell at this time, but they were a funeral business, death didn’t stick to a schedule.
She went downstairs, Einstein padding after her. She imagined him barking at a panther to scare it away. Fat chance.
She turned on the downstairs light and opened the door.
Derek Winters, swaying slightly. He stank of beer and cigarettes.
‘I want to see Abi,’ he said.
Dorothy remembered what Sandra said, that he was dangerous. She patted Einstein by her side and thought of Thomas upstairs.
‘That’s not a good idea.’
‘You don’t understand, she’s all I’ve got.’
Dorothy’s hand was still on the door. She’d seen enough middle-aged drunk men at wakes, she knew how to handle this.
‘Go home and sleep it off.’
‘I’m not pissed.’
‘OK.’
‘I have a right to talk to my daughter.’
Dorothy didn’t know where to start with that. If what Sandra said was true, this guy was a paedophile and rapist, had abused his own daughter for years. She wanted to tear into him, but held back.
‘You don’t have any rights here,’ she said.
‘Like fuck I don’t.’
He shoved her in the chest so that she staggered back. He stepped inside and looked around. Dorothy leaned against the reception desk and took a breath. Einstein’s ears went back and he began barking.
‘Shut up,’ Derek said, kicking the dog.
The rumble of the band upstairs gave a surreal edge, as if this was a weird dream.
Einstein kept barking.
‘Is that her?’ Derek said, pointing at the ceiling.
Dorothy didn’t speak.
He headed up the stairs, two at a time, the waft of booze trailing behind. As he reached the top of the first flight, Thomas came from the kitchen and stood in his way, arms out. But Derek had momentum and barrelled him to the side, Thomas banging his shoulder against the doorframe.
He heaved up the next flight, Thomas, Dorothy and Einstein in his wake, the pound of the drums getting louder, Kazuko yowling about life’s injustices. He threw the door open and the band clattered to a stop. He staggered in then stood in the middle of the studio, seemingly surprised to be there. He heaved in breath as Dorothy and Thomas caught up.
‘What the fuck do you want?’ Kazuko said.
‘I need to see my daughter.’
Abi was slack-jawed behind the kit, drumsticks in hand.
Kazuko whipped her Telecaster off and dropped it on a stand. She strode up to Derek. ‘Fuck you, old man. You fucked your rights when you raped her mum. You disgusting paedo, what the fuck is the matter with you?’
‘Kazuko,’ Thomas said. ‘Let us handle this.’
Kazuko turned her anger on him. ‘Is that why this paedo is standing in our rehearsal? Cause you handled it?’
‘Abi,’ Derek said, stepping towards her.
Kazuko blocked him. ‘I don’t think so. You have to go past me first, motherfucker.’
Dorothy rubbed at her hip where she’d banged against the desk downstairs and thought about her failing body. Oh, to be fifteen again and full of righteous fury.
Taylor took his bass off and stood beside Kazuko, a natural instinct to shield Abi. Good friends to have. Abi was standing behind the kit now, gripping her sticks tight.
‘Abi, I just want to talk to you.’
Thomas took his arm. ‘You need to leave, now.’
Derek shook Thomas off. ‘Fuck you.’
‘If you don’t leave, I’ll arrest you.’
Derek stared at Thomas. ‘Are you a fucking cop?’
Thomas nodded. ‘Leave.’
‘You’re not a cop,’ Derek said. ‘They don’t let your sort into the police.’
‘His sort?’ Kazuko screamed. ‘You mean black? Fucking racist too, huh. Shocker.’
Thomas gripped Derek’s arm, pulled it behind his back, but Derek wriggled free. He pushed Kazuko and she tumbled backwards, knocking Taylor and falling into her amp. She was righting herself when Dorothy saw a spinning flash, and one of Abi’s drumsticks belted Derek in the face.
He touched his forehead like it was a dream, looked up to see a second stick smack his face, near his eye this time.
‘Fuck,’ he said, bending over. ‘Fuck.’
He righted himself in time to get a fist in the face from Kazuko. He fell back, holding his jaw. He looked past Kazuko at Abi, who was out from behind the kit now.
‘Abi, please.’
Abi shook her head like she felt sorry for him, composed, in control.
‘Don’t ever try to speak to me again or I’ll have you arrested. I fucking hate you, don’t you understand? I wish you were dead. I wish you were fucking dead in the ground.’