2007 - The Dead Pool (18 page)

Kirstin cursed under her breath as she traced his rapid retreat up the office steps. ‘Rude sod. Sorry about that. Right, where’s your clinic exacdy?’

But Bonnie had already opened the passenger door. ‘Actually, it might be quicker for me to walk it. Look at the traffic. It’s rush hour now. I…it’s been good to meet you. I’m sorry about Jamie. Really. Maybe we’ll meet again. I must go, I’m so late. Bye.’

Kirstin stared after her until she disappeared down a side street. Funny woman. But she’d been far friendlier, more forthcoming, than she’d expected. If Morag didn’t think Bonnie had been much of a friend to her up to now, that looked to be changing.

Clearing the flat and picking up her bags had taken longer than she’d anticipated. Kirstin squinted through the darkness at her watch as she pulled up outside Morag’s house. Nearly eleven.
Shit. Please don’t let her be awake yet
.

She struggled with the various keys and then stepped into the dark hallway. Silence. Good. She wandered through to the kitchen and flicked on the light switch. No sign of any disturbance other than the dried tea spatters on the far wall and a couple of shards of shattered mug on the floor that Bonnie must have missed. Except? She noticed a low cupboard door was slightly ajar. Probably Bonnie when she was making tea. And had that back-door blind been rucked up like dial before? Taking the stairs two at a time, and painfully slowly to avoid any creaking floorboards, she made it to the first-floor landing. Morag’s bedroom door was open wider than she’d left it.
Damn!
She’d woken up. Kirstin hesitated before putting on the landing light. Morag may have fallen asleep again, and the last thing she needed in her state was to be woken with a start.

‘Morag? I’m back.’ She kept her voice to a near whisper, just in case.

She nudged the door fully open. There was nothing at first glance to show that anything had changed since she’d left. But she waited in the doorway for a moment until her eyes became accustomed to the dark. Still, all seemed as she had left it: Morag huddled under the bedclothes, the note by her glass of…but wait a minute! That wasn’t water and that wasn’t her note. It was an envelope clearly marked ‘Kirstin’. She raced the last few steps to the bedside and lifted the glass to her nostrils. Brandy. Then her eyes fixed on diem, shining almost luminous through the darkness. A heap of coloured capsules and white tablets spilling over the edge of the bedside table, a handful lying scattered on the carpet underneath.

‘
Bonnie,Bonnie? It’s Ally. Call me. We nee
—’

Bonnie stopped the message and hit the delete button. He could wait. Tonight was not the night. She was still feeling deeply unsettled from the events at Morag’s a few short hours ago. Morag had seemed in such an odd mood. Perhaps Kirstin had talked some sense into her by now. She was staying the night with Morag, so all would be well. And as for Kirstin…there were more important things she had to discuss with her than Morag. But for tonight, that could wait.
I need to block everything out for now. I need mysolitude
.

She turned away from the phone. Every window was wide open and even though the night breeze was picking up, it remained warm. Time for a walk in the garden. Her stretch of the river was running shallow and slow tonight. She could easily wade across to the other side should the desire grab her. But tonight it didn’t. She felt the need to be in the cocoon of her home after such a strange and disturbing day.

She stifled a yawn and looked up to the sky. The stars were twinkling, it was a glorious evening. And yet, hard to enjoy. Perhaps if she had someone, or something, to share it with? She turned from the river view, its freshwater scent strong tonight, and made her way slowly up the garden, nodding to herself. Yes, when she made her new life, she’d get a couple of cats. Always far preferable to human company.

Somediing in the shrubbery to her left momentarily stopped her. A movement? A faint rustling? Breathing? Speaking of cats…or maybe it was one of the foxes or badgers coming out earlier than usual. She smiled and sauntered on up to the house.

It was time for a meditation. To ease her mind for whatever was to come and for whatever she decided to do. The candles were lit—a wide dispersal this evening. She felt that she needed their protection tonight. Settling into the chair, she began her breathing exercises, and then the clearing, the stilling of her mind. Readying it to allow whatever wished to come forth. Free-associating visualizations…

It came up in her mind’s eye as a wall calendar. Date: Sunday, 13 August 2006. Suddenly, a gust of wind tore at its edge and the page flew away. She followed the ragged paper, since she too could fly. And then she was looking down, miles below. At first they were ants, the river a piece of long, winding string. Then, she was coming in to land, the Cauldron, the weir, both looming large and shimmering below her. Picnic blankets, towels, all laid out on the riverbank, the group looking upwards, agog, mouths open. Craig and lona were standing side by side, arms waving. In welcome? Or warning…

She had gone so deep that she was oblivious to the entrance of the intruder. Her eyelids flickered. Captivated by her other consciousness. She might as well have been blind, deaf and dumb to any unwarranted entry to her home.

It would be some time before she became aware of the candle flames being held to the muslin curtains.

And perilously late when she felt the fabric of her dress ignite.

‘
Justl ike a couple of lovebirds today, aren’t they, Morag?
’

‘
Iona! God, jou gave me afright, sneaking up like that
.’

lona directed Morag’s gaze to the sight of Fraser and Bonnie cavorting at the fringes of the Cauldron. His slim, deeply tanned torso was wrestling with the bird-like Bonnie as he threatened to throw her into the river. Her squeals drifted over the water to where Morag was lying
.

lona held out the champagne, watching Morag’s eyes trying to focus on the bottle. Excellent, she was half gone already. ‘Fancy some more bubbly? C’mon, get it down you, girl. Not much left, but there’ll be another one along in a minute
.’

Morag held out her glass and accepted the rest of the bottle with a nod. lona hovered for a moment and then sat down, handing her a freshly made spliff, lighter at the ready
.

‘
You know, Morag, I’m so excited.’ Morag accepted the light and took a long drag before speaking
.

‘
Excited? What, today? Here?
’

lona shook her head, ruffling a hand through her short damp hair. She looked down, running a finger to and fro across the fine fabric of Morag’s sarong, spread out beneath them, and then stretched out her long, bronzed legs before answering
.

‘
No, not today specifically. I mean, generally. I’m going to be making changes to my life. It’s all got a bit samey. But I feel on the cusp of something more exciting. The gallery’s doing well and I have, at last, found the genius that will make my name. Have you heard me talk about Jules, Jules Moncrieff? No? Well, you’ll be hearing a lot about him everywhere soon.’ She accepted Morag’s offer of the joint and sucked at it, staring out at the Cauldron. ‘And, that’s not all. My sex life is as thrilling as ever. Like you, I’m no spring chicken and you do get to wonder, don’t you? But, it seems I’ve still got what it takes. So I’m grabbing everything I can! Let me give you a bit of advice. So should you. See you later,Morag. Hang on in there
.’

Spliff in hand, she skipped off, smiling away to herself. Job done. She could feel Morag’s stare burning into her back, wondering what all that was about. She’d work it out. But not today. Not in her state. Now…where was Ally…over bythe booze
.

‘
There you are, lona! Come here!
’

She beamed at her brother, who was waggling another bottle straight from the icebox
.

‘
Eight, little sister, what have you been doing? I’ve not seen you exchange that many words with Morag since I don’t know when
.’

She patted him on the shoulder. ‘Since she became a
total
pain in the backside. No…I was just preparing the ground
.’

She was glad that her brother was in better spirits today. He’d been absent recently, never available, and when she’d managed to get him on the phone, he could barely utter aword. But he seemed normal today. More than normal. In fact, he was almost euphoric. Good. They were going to have a fun day
.

‘
God, lona. What are you up to now? Hewas shaking his head in mock disapproval
.

She could see that he was intrigued, and aimed a punch at his chest. ‘Oh, not a lot. Craig and I are going to slip off for a while, but that’s by the by. It’s just that I get the feeling from our
gorgeous
Dr Inine that he’s going to give our Ms Ramsay the push sometime soon. I know the signs and I was just getting her in the mood. A subtle warning, if you like
.’

Ally refilled her glass, smirking.’Oh, yeah. So, are you running off with the lovely Craig, then?
’

‘
Pah! Hardly. If he is going to leave her, it’ll be for his own reasons. You know me, no ties, no baggage. I’m off for a dip. See you later!
’

As she slid off her bikini top and slipped into the blissfully cool waters of the Cauldron, she gave a jaunty wave to Fraser and Craig, standing close together, like conspirators, on the wooden bridge. They waved back, ginning, and then burst out laughing, clearly enjoying their no doubt smutty joke. Gently, she lay back, naked breasts facing up towards the sun, and let the water hold her body. Ally’s remark picked away at her thoughts. She hoped Craig wasn’t harbouring any happy-ever-after feelings. For fuck’s sake, he was a grown-up. Surely he could recognise adult fun—and only fun—when he met it
.

She squinted against the sun. Was that Craig’s silhouette still up on the bridge? Yes. Fraser must have gone elsewhere. Didn’t he want to enjoy the view too? Fraser had been the perfect example of no-ties fun. Their casual encounters had been pretty spectacular, but he knew when the end was the end. Although…he was looking so good at the moment, maybe she might try a little…reprise with him? And maybe too she might have to think about retreating from Craig sooner than she’d planned. A slow retreat. She hadn’t had enough of him yet. But he wasn’t the only one she needed to get out of her hair. There was other unfinished business. She’d need to think about how to handle that. Then, once free, she could make an all-out assault on the one she really wanted. The one she just might like to be tied down with
.

Jules Moncrieff, here I come…

Dear Kirstin,

 

I have had enough. Nothing can justify me being thrown into the hell I have been living in. I can no longer endure it. Whatever I may or may not be guilty of, the reviled ‘Witch’ is about to pay for it.

 

Morag

Kirstin couldn’t stop blinking. Her eyes felt dry and gritty, from tears of shock and from the overwhelming, cloying heat of the hospital. She’d managed to find a darkened corner in the waiting area away from the infectious anxiety of others. For the umpteenth time a middle-aged man stepped up to the reception desk, worry etched deep into his exhausted face, only to be told quietly to sit back down and wait. She closed her eyes, fingers still clutching the note. Waiting:
the
nightmare.

‘Kirstin Rutherford?’

She blinked and brought the figure standing over her into focus. A tall woman, in her fifties, smiling gently and handing her a plastic cup.

‘Machine coffee. All
I
could get downstairs at two in the morning. I’m Isobel Lockhart. I’ve a lot to thank you for.’

Kirstin sat up, feeling her nerves subside, reading the woman’s smile as a message of hope. She accepted the cup. ‘So, she’s okay? Really? I’m so…so relieved. This note…I must’ve read it a thousand times tonight. Here.’

Dr Lockhart smiled again, nodding and sipping at her own coffee as she scanned the brief few lines. Her eyes too, behind the smart designer frames, were desperate for sleep. ‘I see. Okay, don’t worry. I’ll keep this if I may? And yes, Morag is all right. You got to her in time.’

She moved to sit beside Kirstin, the smile now gone from her face. ‘You’ll understand there is very little I can say about Morag professionally. Because of patient confidentiality. But I know she’s told you a fair bit about herself, the problems she’s having. I’m going to put her in the care of one of my colleagues, with the full support of my entire team, for the next two weeks. I have to go away to the US tomorrow.’ She snatched a look at her watch. ‘God, today actually. I’ve suggested to Morag that, when she’s released from here in the next day or two, she be admitted to a short-term unit, attached to my clinic, a kind of halfway house if you like. Just for the first couple of nights. The environment there is calm, there’s therapeutic help on tap. It’s not the first time I’ve made this suggestion to her. However, she’s adamant that she wants to get back home. I’m not going to stop her, as long as I know she’ll have outside support.’

The woman paused, obviously giving careful thought to what she was about to say next. Kirstin realized she looked more than tired. Worried. What was going through her mind about Morag? Whatever it was, she couldn’t ask her and wouldn’t be told.

Dr Lockhart finished her coffee and looked again at Kirstin. ‘As you know, Morag is extremely isolated. Both from her past friends and from her family. I realize that you’ve known her for only a short time, but she’s told me some of your background. You’ve been very supportive to her.’ She paused to take a deep sigh. ‘So, I wondered if you felt able to take on any further responsibility, above and beyond what you’ve already done? I’m talking really about being prepared to call her, drop in on her regularly this next fortnight while I’m away?’

Dr Lockhart was raising a quizzical eyebrow, awaiting some response. Kirstin leant forward, her lower lip pouting as she gathered her thoughts.