Jimmy knew that something was wrong as soon as he stepped through his front door.
His dad sat in his usual seat in the sitting room staring at a bottle of vodka on the table and spinning an empty glass between an enormous finger and thumb. It was the first time Jimmy had seen him with a proper drink in his hand since he'd taken over at the chip shop.
The baby sat in the buggy in the corner, sucking hard on his dummy.
Jimmy ran up the stairs.
Everything was as he'd left it — the clothes decorating the floor, coffee jar full of cigarette butts, wrappers from supper the night before and the night before that.
Beer soaked through his jeans as he knelt in the corner of the room.
He pulled the carpet back, hooked his finger through the knot hole in one of the boards and lifted.
The money was still there, all three hundred grand. Only change was the droplets of liquid on the bags from when he'd thrown the can at the bin.
The muscles in his neck relaxed until Joe started wailing.
When his ears tuned in he realised that his dad was sobbing too, softly like he didn't want his grandson to know how he was feeling.
Jimmy went to the top of the stairs. Took the first two steps and hopped over the banister rail, landing square in the middle of the hall. A stab of pain shot through his weak ankle. He did his best to ignore it and limped into the living room.
The place depressed him at the best of times.
Seeing his dad in tears made his legs weaken. He wished he'd just legged it as soon as he got hold of the Ramsays' cash. Left everyone else to get on with it.
"Where the hell's Kylie?" Jimmy asked as he reached into the buggy and pulled his nephew out. "Jesus, Dad. Poor thing's soaked." He gave his fingers a smell. "Christ, that's minging." Piss.
Bert didn't make any effort to answer. Instead he dropped his head into his hands.
Jimmy watched his broad shoulders bob up and down. Hadn't seen the old man like that since Maureen left.
"Come on, Dad. Where the fuck is she?"
Bert raised his head slowly as if he was using the last of the energy he had left. Looked like the stone giant in Jason and the Argonauts.
"Tell you what, wee man," Jimmy told Joe, "we'll change your bottom and see what needs doing."
The nappy was sodden. Joe must have been in it for hours.
Jimmy didn't mind doing the changing. He'd done enough of it since the nipper came along.
When he opened it up, a stream of pee shot into the air like a fountain. Joe ducked out of the way and managed to stay dry.
Bonus was it wasn't a poo. They were radioactive.
A quick wipe and a new nappy and it was done. One happy boy.
"See, wee man," Jimmy smiled down. "Doesn't take much, does it?"
He lifted him up, gave him a quick kiss and laid him gently down on his back under the baby gym. Joe's arms and legs thrashed about like he was the happiest baby in the world. Jimmy decided it would be his job to make sure things stayed that way. He'd leave some money for the bairn. Maybe enough for them to move away from their shit-hole council house. A fresh start in a nice place. Somewhere on the coast, maybe. A sea and a beach to play on every day. Fresh air and exercise. Better than bruises and broken dreams any day.
Jimmy knelt in front of his dad.
"Where is she, Dad?"
"Dunno."
"C'mon. No secrets, remember."
"Don't know son. There was no sign when I came in. Just Joe screaming his head off."
Something had to be wrong.
Kylie was too young for motherhood, so they'd all chipped in to help.
Mrs Edgar had done more than could have been expected and the health visitors couldn't have been nicer.
But Kris had been an arsehole. Worse than useless. More hassle than he was worth.
Kylie was a better mother than anyone expected. Kept Joe clean and fed. Chatted to him like they were best mates when she walked him in the buggy. Pulled all the silly faces a parent was supposed to, even if she'd hardly slept.
She'd never left Joe alone. Wouldn't have dreamt of it. She was young, but she loved her son like Jimmy had never expected.
The effort had taken it out of her. Her skin was so pale it would have made a corpse look healthy.
For all they knew she'd been taking pills and shit from Kris and anti-depressants from the doc. Maybe she'd had enough. Walked off and topped herself.
Jimmy ran upstairs again. Went into Kylie's room and looked everywhere for a note. He was sure that if she intended to commit suicide she'd have left one. She was good like that, his big sister. Thoughtful.
It was a relief to come up empty handed, but it didn't bring her back.
He limped back down the stairs.
"Come on, Dad. We'll not find her sitting on our arses."
Bert took the hand Jimmy offered and pulled himself up onto his feet. His eyes had gone, like there was no one home.
The glass lay in pieces over the floor.
"Daft sod," Jimmy shouted. "Get your fucking arse into fucking gear."
Still no one home.
Jimmy slapped him hard.
Did the job. His father looked back at him like a spell had been broken.
"Dad, you're going to do the estate all the way up to the store. Ask everyone." As he talked, he screwed the lid back onto the vodka bottle.
"What about Joe?"
"I'll sort out the glass, make sure he doesn't choke himself to death, then I'll fix him up a bottle and take him on a tour. We'll head down the Windygoul estate."
Jimmy realised he'd taken control. It was a first. Felt like his chest had grown and he could breathe in more air. "If you find her, call my mobile."
He pushed his dad out of the front door and headed back inside to see if they still had a dustpan and brush.
***
Useless it was.
Nobody had seen her. She wasn't in the pubs or coffee shops. She hadn't turned up in any of her old haunts. None of her mates had heard a thing.
There was no record of her in arriving at any of the hospitals and there hadn't been a suicide attempt in the vicinity of Edinburgh for forty-eight hours.
The day was spent. So were the Hooks.
After bathing Joe and settling him for the night, Jimmy went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Took two empty mugs through to the sitting room and poured a good measure of booze into each.
In the middle of the room, a bunch of flowers hand delivered at some point during the day. Red and white carnations. Bandages and blood.
The card hanging from them read 'Thinking of you' with a load of kisses. 'Love Carlo'.
Bert reckoned it was sweet, that they should put them in water for when she got back.
Jimmy, didn't like it one bit. Was too much of a coincidence. Like something you might see in a gangster movie.
First thing next morning he was going round to have a word.
But that could wait. What he needed more than anything was to get out of his skull.
He reached over to his dad. They clinked their mugs together and threw the contents down their necks.