The K Handshape (17 page)

I held out my thumb and she pressed hers against mine.

“One is both and both are one.”

“Too bad we’re not the same size,” I said. “I liked the look of that green suit you have in your closet.”

“Get out of here. It’s brand new. I haven’t worn it yet. I was waiting for an occasion.”

Nurse “I’m not nice” Irma popped her head into the room. “Time for visitors to leave now.”

I gave Paula another quick hug and left her. Her skin looked as white as the pillow she was lying against. Why, oh why hadn’t I noticed how skinny she’d got lately and how pale?

I left the hospital with the rest of the stragglers and went to my car.

The street lamps cast pools of watery lights on the slick sidewalk and the few people out of doors hurried, heads bent under their umbrellas, to the warmth of their homes. I was hit with an unexpected pang of loneliness. I wasn’t hurrying home to anybody. Suddenly I missed Gill fiercely. So far our long-distance relationship had been manageable but this dreary night made me wish he was waiting for me at home in a brightly lit warm house, dinner prepared…Whoa. dinner prepared? Sounded like I wanted a mother, not a mate. I groaned to myself. I was under the impression I’d resolved that issue a lot time ago. Apparently not.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I was still in a deep sleep when I was awakened by the phone ringing. It was pitch black outside, which wasn’t surprising as it was just five o’clock.

“Chris, it’s your mother.”

It was all I could do not to growl into the phone. Joan refused, wilfully in my opinion, to get a grip on time differences. She was in the Hebrides, which was five hours ahead of me, a nice comfortable ten o’clock in the morning.

“Chris?”

“Do you realize it’s five in the morning?”

“Oh, is it? I thought it would be seven and I know you get up early. Shall I call back?”

“No, never mind.”

“You sound grouchy but then you always were a bear with a sore head in the morning.”

I bit back my reply, which would only have proved her point. I was trying to be a grown-up person with her, although she too frequently managed to send me back to feeling like a sulky teenager.

“So you’re probably wondering why I’m calling?”

“It had crossed my mind. Is the island sinking into the sea or something?”

There was a little silence followed by a forced chuckle. Joan didn’t like it if I got sarcastic.

“Your father and I have decided to get married and naturally we’d like you to be at the wedding. We’re thinking of this Christmas.”

I shoved myself into a sitting position. I should offer a brief explanation. Two years ago, I discovered that my biological father whom I’d never met or even knew about lived in the Isle of Lewis where my mother had grown up. They were teenage sweethearts. She left the island, came to Canada at the age of nineteen, and discovered she was pregnant with me. She herself was in a state of rebellion and decided not to tell Duncan MacKenzie, that’s his name, about his daughter. Unfortunately, when I met Duncan two years ago, the initial feeling was a mutual antipathy. Time had softened that a little but I still thought he was old school bossy and patriarchal and he considered me disrespectful and arrogant, especially where Joan is concerned. In his favour, I must say I’d never seen her happier or better cared for. However, I’d asked her several times not to refer to him as my father. He was the sperm donor but he’d nothing to do with parenting me. Al Jackson had done that. She always managed to slip it in.

“Are you listening?” she asked her voice sharp. She could get shirty almost as fast as I could. What a great pair we were.

“Yes, I’m listening. When did you decide this? The last I knew you were thinking of doing the deed in the summer, if at all.”

“Oh no. We definitely want to make everything legal. People are much more tolerant than they used to be but I know they still don’t approve of us living together outside of wedlock, especially my brothers.”

“You shouldn’t give them that much power. Who cares what they think? It’s your life.”

I’d met my uncles and found them, shall we say, unprepossessing. Dour and rigid, in fact.

“You can say that because you don’t live here. Lewis is a different world. Anyway, your fath… Duncan and I were talking about it last week and we thought, why wait? He noticed a special on a cruise around the Greek Islands and it seemed a good way to spend a honeymoon. Besides, there are hardly any tourists at this time of year, so he can leave the business for a while.”

Duncan put on herding and trick exhibitions for the visitors with his brilliant border collies.

I pushed Tory away from my feet.

“I’m not sure I can come. We’re in the middle of a case for one thing and for another…” I paused. I didn’t want to break my promise to Paula until she gave me permission to tell. Also Joan was jealous of my relationship with the Jacksons and I knew she’d be quite offended if she thought I was choosing them over her even if it was a serious matter like cancer.

“I thought you’d want to see Gill, at least,” said Joan, her voice reproachful.

“He’s planning to come here.”

“He won’t if I tell him we’re getting married… It’s not as if this is any old trip, Christine. This will be the most special day of my life.”

Ugh.

“Your sisters are very happy for us.”

“Half-sisters.”

Mairi and Lisa were Duncan’s daughters by his first marriage. I liked them a lot and I was very glad to have found them, but I couldn’t stand it when Joan began the guilt trip, using them as levers.

“We’ve talked about having Anna as a ring bearer but Mairi thinks she might be too young.”

Another heavy silence, then in the background I heard Duncan shouting something.

“I’ve got to go,” said Joan. “We’re driving into Stornoway to look at dresses. I was thinking of wearing white but it will probably be cold so I’m going for a nice pale blue wool suit I saw in Saracen’s.”

White? It was typical of Joan that she’d even contemplated the idea.

“What do you think?”

“Hm. Pale blue sounds good.”

I sensed she wanted to have a girly talk about the wedding preparations but I just couldn’t do it.

“Duncan says you should travel with Thomas Cook. They have more leg room.”

“Right. Well, I’ll have to get back to you about this. I can’t promise.”

Her voice became huffy. “Don’t leave it too long. We’re having the reception at the Duke and I have to make out the guest list. The places are limited.”

That was a nice, under-the-counter stab but I deserved it.

“Let me get my head around it. I haven’t had much sleep.”

Another silence. “You haven’t even given me your good wishes, Chris. My own daughter and you didn’t say, ‘congratulations.’”

She slammed the phone down.

I leaned back against the headboard. Chalk that one up as a failure. We’d both been trying to relate to each other differently, but the old tracks ran deep and mutual disappointment often reasserted itself

I snapped off the bedside light and snuggled back under the covers. Too late. I was awake. Or half awake anyway. I rolled over to head for the bathroom, Tory and Bertie both doing their best to trip me up so I could go crashing to the floor, die, and not be able to feed them. I came back to the bed, picked up the phone, and called Joan. A very British voice prompt said, “This is the answer phone service. The party you are calling is not available at the moment. Please leave a message.”

“Joan. I’ll come. Sorry I was so grumpy. You’re right, I’m not good in the morning. Congratulations to both of you. I’ll call again as soon as I can.”

I padded into the kitchen, plugged in the kettle to make coffee, and opened a fresh can of cat food for the monsters, which they both dived into, Bertie making his usual little gobbling noise.

“I’m just a walking can opener to you two, aren’t I?”

They agreed but didn’t bother to look up.

I’d just made my coffee when the phone rang again. I hurried over to answer it but it wasn’t Joan. It was Gary, my downstairs tenant.

“I didn’t wake you, did I, Chris? I could hear you moving about and I heard the coffee grinder so I knew you were up to stay.” So much for my private life. I’d have to be more careful about making strange noises that I didn’t want overheard.

I’d inherited Gary and his partner, Ahmed, when I bought the house and we’d become good pals over the last year. Gary in particular loved gardening and he kept the backyard lush with
shrubs and flowers, something I could never do. Ahmed on occasion made us all delicious Egyptian dishes.

It was not quite a quarter to six.

“Is something the matter?” I asked. Gary sounded stressed.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. Terribly the matter. I haven’t slept a wink all night. Would you mind if I come up and talk to you? I just don’t know where to turn.”

What could I say? I owed him lots.

“Of course, come up. I’ll make coffee. Is it just you or Ahmed as well?”

“Just me.” His voice was tight. “Ahmed and I are separating.”

“Oh dear. That sounds like a call for double sugar.”

My feeble joke fell flat. Gary was notorious for having a sweet tooth and all his friends teased him about it.

“I’ll be right there,” he said and he hung up.

Two minutes later he was at the door. He was fully dressed but unshaven, something very unusual for Gary, who was fastidious about his grooming. I gave him a hug and he clung to me for a few minutes then stepped back so he could wipe his eyes.

He dabbed at the lapels of my dressing gown with his handkerchief. “Sorry, I’ve got snot all over you.”

“It’ll wash out. Do you want some coffee?”

“Yes, please, double-double.”

While I was fixing his order, he was hovering in the kitchen. “I do like your apartment, Chris. It’s very cosy.”

“Thanks. Have a seat. Do you want some toast?”

“Sure.”

I handed him the mug of coffee and he held it in both his hands.

“So what’s this about you two separating?”

I knew they had rows like any other couple because I’d heard them, but they weren’t frequent. Ahmed was several years younger than Gary, shy where he was flamboyant, a devout Muslim to Gary’s vocal atheism. However, they’d been together for a few years and, in spite of the obvious differences, seemed very committed to each other.

Gary looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “As you know, his father died in June and he went to Egypt for the funeral. He hasn’t been the same since. His family said he had brought about the old
man’s death because … because he hadn’t provided him with an heir. Apparently, while he was there, his mother was relentless, dragging women over to the house for him to choose a bride… He’s never told them about us. They would have disinherited him totally.”

“But you’ve lived together for years.”

He managed a sip of the coffee. “They think we’re just good friends. They know I’m a schoolteacher and they approve of that. They also know I have a grown son.” He managed a small smile. “I suppose they can’t conceive of a man, er, changing his mind as it were.”

“Ahmed is giving into the pressure, I gather?”

“He is. Oh Chris, he wasn’t home all night. He told me yesterday that he’s met somebody else, a woman, and he plans to marry her and have children. Then his mother will be happy.”

He put his head down on the table and burst into tears. I came over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. There wasn’t much I could say.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Gary thought he’d be better off going to work, so after about an hour of non-stop talking and weeping, he went downstairs to clean up. I’d been hoping to have a look at the report Gill had sent me but I just had time to get take a shower and have some breakfast. Katherine had scheduled a meeting for eight-thirty. Leo, a glass of water in front of him, was sitting next to David, who was in the process of shaking out some drops from a brown vial into the glass.

Leo didn’t seem to be paying attention, the way a fox before it is about to strike the rabbit will be motionless. Quickly, I slid into the chair next to him.

“How’s it going, Leo?”

He looked at me, his eyes hot with anger. “Get him away from me, Christine, before I kill him.”

He spoke quietly but David couldn’t help but hear what he said. He stopped what he was doing.

“It’s just rescue remedy. It has a calming effect.”

I moved the glass to one side, away from Leo. “Thanks, David. Not now.”

“I’m only trying to be helpful,” he replied in a particularly whiny voice.

Leo turned to him. “What would really help me at the moment is if you got as far away from me as you could. I am not interested in your potions. I do not need your help. In fact, if truth be told, I feel ill if I am within five feet of you.”

He wasn’t shouting but the force of his rage could have taken the paint off the walls. David blushed deeply.

“Sorry, I’m sure.”

He gathered his file folder on the table in front of him and stood up. Body stiff with embarrassment, he shuffled to the other side of the table and sat down, making sure he wasn’t in Leo’s sight line. I felt sorry for him. I wouldn’t like to be at the receiving end of that kind of lacerating anger.

Jamie and Ray were hanging out by the ubiquitous coffee urn where Janice was plying them with carbohydrates. The unpleasantness of the scene made them fall silent and I for one was heartily glad when Katherine came in and took her place. It might have just been me looking at the world through jaundiced, sleep-deprived eyes, but she seemed tired and stressed out. Her white blouse leached the colour from her face.

“Sorry I’m late. Let’s get started, shall we? I only have an hour.” She saw Leo and nodded at him. “Welcome, Leo.” No fuss. She knew he was a grown-up and trusted him to tell her if he couldn’t take it.

“Just to let you all know, I had a message from Paula this morning. She is in the hospital, nothing too serious, but they discovered an irregular heartbeat and she has to be under observation for a few days. She thinks they’ll keep her there until the weekend at least.”