Chapter 8

“Please excuse my colleague,” Liz Rhodes said to the two people opposite. It was something that she hoped she wasn’t going to have to continue to say everywhere they went in Scotland.

Sarge looked at her with a confused expression, because he hadn’t said or done anything, he thought. They had arrived in Inverness mid-afternoon and were met at the station by two officers, McPherson and Campbell. To Sarge these just looked like normal people and he was a bit taken aback. Liz knew his brain patterns having worked with him for so long. She knew that he had already typecast the people of Scotland before he left home and he had been caught staring at their clothes when they first arrived, probably wondering where their kilts and sporrans were. Now at the restaurant they had taken him to, the same look was on his face as he looked at the menu. This incurred a sharp elbow to his ribs from his junior colleague.

Amelia Campbell seemed amused and said, “If you are expecting haggis forget it. This is an Italian restaurant and is very popular. If you want traditional food then you can go on one of those unedifying highland tours. Otherwise just enjoy the range of our restaurants similar to those that you will find anywhere across the world.”

Sarge flushed with embarrassment and a little pain, rubbed his ribcage. McPherson, whom Sarge had already labelled as a dour old sour puss, grinned, “If you expected deep fried everything you should have gone west to Glasgow instead of north to us.”

Sarge figured that was a standard Scottish joke or putdown about the people from Glasgow. It was the same everywhere. The people of Townsville copped a belting from those in Cairns who thought that Townsville was just another Brisbane wannabe, without the class and without the best bits of the Reef that Cairns had. He began revising his thoughts on the people of Inverness. In particular McPherson, who was about the same age as he was. Though McPherson was somewhat shorter and more nuggety, Sarge recognised, the level of intelligence that lay behind the slightly florid complexion.

McPherson had difficulty when it came to addressing Sarge as Sarge, until he was assured that unless he did, the two Australian officers were catching the next flight home. Sarge certainly wouldn’t answer to his given name Bernard as he detested it with a passion. Sarge explained that Detective Chief Inspector Downs was too much of a mouthful, but if that is what McPherson’s formality required, he would live with it. This left Amelia and Liz in an awkward situation as both were keen to use first names for each other and Liz had rarely called Sarge anything else except Sarge. Donald McPherson was the person on the outer. After about an hour spent touring the town and having Sarge, Amelia and Liz addressing him by his full rank and surname, he relented as it sounded quite pompous. Amelia felt relieved, but had enormous difficulty calling him anything but “sir”. Liz had no such qualms and, apart from the commander of the station in Cairns, she was Liz to everyone regardless of rank. McPherson had trouble with the informality of the Australians, but he was the consummate host and tried his best to make them feel at ease. He did point out however that he was Donald and never Don.

The first meeting at the train station was just as awkward. Their arrival from Edinburgh was late arriving and, despite MacPherson checking with the station master, the time seemed even longer. He couldn’t help but pace up and down the platform. It was the anxiety that was getting to him. He was not someone who liked change and meeting new people. This was both combined and accentuated by the delay in arrival of the train. Campbell watched her boss and kept a very straight face and suppressed smile. It was good to see that people in high places went through the same apprehension. This just made her own dissipate somewhat. She couldn’t help but think that she was the token female and had spent the previous night questioning her own abilities despite what MacPherson had said. In a world separated from real life, the police force was about twenty years behind what were commonly accepted norms of society. This just made it doubly hard for her, as she had years of misogyny to conquer and then to bring the staff at Inverness from way behind and then a further twenty years to where the powers that be had said they should be. Well, the push had come from parliament and society and then had to run the gauntlet of the men at the top of the traditional force who were quite content with their sinecure as long as change wasn’t required. Change meant work, stress and was to be avoided at all costs. She looked at McPherson again and smiled, but this time for a different reason. This morning he had he had backed her to the hilt and had spoken at times forcefully to the officers at Inverness about their attitude regarding women within the force and in the community in general. He had reminded his officers that family disputes that involved violence or verbal or emotional abuse were actually crimes and that the perpetrators, be they men or women, were to not just be slapped with a wet lettuce but charged with a crime. Yes, Campbell reckoned she had every reason to smile. This man was a good man and deserved her attention and her support. As they waited for the train, she decided that any awkwardness he may fail would be just the signal for her to step up. She owed him that at the very least.

Liz and Sarge had been allocated a room each at a bed and breakfast in the town not far from the police station. It was small and cosy and they would later realise that it was typical of the houses in the area. The large houses of Australia seemed even more vast by comparison. Staying at a hotel wasn’t seen to be deserving enough for his visitors according to Donald McPherson and he had taken great delight in introducing them to Miss Fields, the elderly matron who was famous in the area for her kindness and helpfulness, all delivered in a quite abrupt manner. Sarge and Liz had been a bit apprehensive about this woman’s lack of tact but nevertheless sensed that there was more to her than just her acid tongue. They unpacked a few things and then got ready for their dinner at the restaurant where the process of getting to know their two Scottish colleagues that they would work closely with, began in earnest. There seemed to be an almost instant bond and affinity between the two junior officers who appeared to be very much on the same wavelength. Both acted as interpreters for their bosses. Amelia had immediately picked up on Sarge’s slow close-mouthed drawl and would whisper to Donald McPherson. Liz had already shown her expertise at explaining McPherson’s brogue. By the end of the meal however both had had enough and, when Sarge and McPherson went to the cashier to fight over who was paying for the meal, there was whispered agreement by Liz and Amelia that their bosses needed to learn to listen to each other, cut the use of slang and jargon and speak slower and clearer to each other. Otherwise more time would be spent on translation than on actually gaining any benefit from working together. Amelia had an idea and discreetly rang the editor of the local paper suggesting that she come down and catch the two males as they left the restaurant and ask what had brought them together. This would force them to provide a joint clear response and make them think on their feet quickly. The two women disappeared to the toilets as the editor turned up. Amelia would have been very proud of her idea as at last the two men began to establish a rapport and an understanding of each other. She would have also been very relieved that the editor never let on about her tip off. When Liz and Amelia returned, they found that the bill had been split and would be claimed against both police forces. There was no sign of the editor who had quickly gone back to her office to write a feature article for the paper due out the day after tomorrow. They also found that their bosses were politely arguing the toss about, of all things, art.