‘Sis?’
‘Hi – just a heads-up. I’m on my way to the hospital.’
‘Now what?’
‘They’re discharging him. Don’t ask.’
‘Oh help … You’re taking him home with you?’
‘Where else?’
‘While I’ve got you, I had a call from the rehab people – they want to fit my new prosthesis and give me a couple of days’ intensive training but do I really need that, do you think? I’m just at a breakthrough point in this cold case.’
‘You’ll definitely need some time with them – this prosthesis will be more sophisticated than the one you’ve got now which doubtless means more complicated. It’s going to talk to your arm’s computer via Bluetooth.’
‘Wouldn’t a day cover it? I can always contact them if I come up against a problem– or you can help me out.’
‘No, I can’t, Simon, I know next to nothing about it. It’s a highly specialist area, as you should know by now. Why not tell them you’d find it difficult to spend two days there just now, ask them for their opinion? Si, I’ve got to go, I’m in the hospital car park and of course there are no spaces. Let me know what happens. Come round tonight? Dad would appreciate it.’
No, Simon thought, Dad sure as hell would not.
But he went, partly in case he could catch Kieron, partly out of guilt, but also because he had caught himself once or twice lately feeling an unfamiliar bleakness at being alone in the flat he loved so much, probably because he was in it too much just now, so that it was no longer a blessed relief from the job, which he loved but which was so often frenetic. He had time to work up the drawings he had done on Taransay, yet whenever he opened the sketchbooks, he felt an ennui. His gallery was nudging him but he had stalled them. There were evenings when he found nothing he wanted to read or listen to and could find only crime shows on television, which annoyed him because they so often got the procedures wrong. Yet when Rachel had moved in with him, he had not been able to cope – not with her so much as with someone else in his private space.
‘Midlife crisis,’ Cat said, handing him a gin. ‘I’ve had several. You need to get back to proper work.’
‘This case is proper work.’
‘Are you getting anywhere?’
‘Yes.’ He pulled a kitchen chair out and straddled it.
‘You will go up and see Dad?’
‘Soon.’
Cat glanced at him. He wanted to talk to her. She could always tell.
She took the dish of chilli from the fridge and put it in the oven, set the timer and then picked up her glass. ‘Come on, let’s be civilised for once.’
The evening light came into the sitting room, gilding the far wall. Cat opened the windows onto the garden a crack. It was just warm enough.
She sat down and sipped her drink, leaned her head back, closed her eyes. Waited. Said nothing. That was the way you had to be with Simon.
A blackbird was madly singing from the holly tree.
‘I was wondering if I should move,’ he said and at once got up, took both their glasses and went into the kitchen to refill them, so that she had time to take in what he had said and he did not have watch her immediate reaction.
‘Move as in job or home?’
‘Home – wouldn’t want a new patch – not for now anyway. Probably never.’
Simon shrugged. ‘It might have had its day.’
‘You love it. Always have, always will … least I thought so.’
‘I still do – in most ways.’
‘I think this is part of your coming to terms with what happened. Moving house won’t change everything.’
‘I know that.’
‘Right, what are you tired of – the view from the windows?’
‘Never.’
‘No. The space – the way you’ve arranged it? All that.’
‘No. I might refresh but I wouldn’t want to change anything.’
‘Lack of an outside space?’
‘I’m no gardener, and anyway, I can come here. Or go away.’
‘Lonely?’
‘I’m perfectly self-sufficient.’
‘You think you are.’
‘Here we go – knowing me better than I know myself.’
‘Sometimes. It would be OK to admit to being lonely. It’s in order. People are.’
He shook his head.
‘Not being at work all day and occasionally half the night makes a difference. The time I broke my leg I nearly went round the twist being here on my own for most of the day, for weeks on end. I was close to inviting the postman in for coffee, just to talk to another human being. It’s understandable, Si.’
‘Yes.’
‘Where would you move to?’
‘A cottage maybe … village near here?’
‘Roses round the door?’
He threw a cushion at her. Cat was about to catch him off guard by saying a name, but before she could, Kieron’s car came up the drive and Richard shouted from upstairs and, simultaneously, banged hard on the floor.
‘I knew I shouldn’t have left that bloody walking stick by his bed,’ Cat said. A moment later, Kieron put his head round the door. ‘Didn’t know you were coming,’ he said. He looked tired and drawn. ‘Sorry but I’m not going to be sociable. I’ve had budget meetings the entire day and a migraine to finish all. I’m off to a darkened room.’
Simon followed him as far as the hall. ‘One quick question.’
Kieron stopped.
‘I’m at breakthrough with the Kimberley Still case. Can I have extra manpower for twenty-four hours?’
‘Have what you want,’ the Chief said.