Mistakes We Make (12 page)

‘How are you? What are you up to these days? We were so sorry you decided to leave us.’

Caitlyn swallowed. She still lived in dread of having to explain things. She should have faced up to the situation immediately, and she hadn’t been brave enough. The trouble was, leaving Blair King had been no solution. Every day she’d thought about what she’d seen and every day she grew more and more angry with herself for not having had the courage to take her worries further. Mr Blair was nice. What would he have done to her? Nothing, probably. Even if she’d been wrong, she would have been following the correct procedures.

He was still speaking. ‘We were wondering if you might be free to come back and help us out for a few months.’

She blinked in disbelief. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Sorry, is this a bad connection?’ He said it again, more slowly this time. ‘We were wondering – I was wondering – whether, by any chance, you might be free from work commitments at the moment. Do you remember Shereen James?’

Shereen James? Had she seen something too? Wrapped up in her obsession, Caitlyn couldn’t make sense of Mr Blair’s words. ‘I remember her, yes,’ she muttered cautiously.

‘Shereen’s taking maternity leave and we’re going to need cover. We could go to an agency, of course, but I remembered you and wondered if—’

‘You want me to come back to Blair King?’

‘Just for a few months. You know the ropes, you were highly thought of. It would be a terrific solution for us.’

When she didn’t answer, he said, ‘But I expect you’re nicely sorted out somewhere else. It was a bit of a long shot.’

‘No, I—’ Caitlyn had no idea how to answer him. She’d earn good money at Blair King. She might even be able to negotiate a higher temporary rate than the salary she’d been on – but on the other hand, she could be thrown right back into the situation she had fled.

Need drove her.

‘When would you want me to start?’

A sudden gust of wind caught her hair and flapped it in front of her eyes. Behind her, a lorry thundered across the bridge so that she lost Mr Blair’s next words.

‘Sorry, I couldn’t hear that.’ She clawed back her hair and tried to concentrate.

‘I said: could you start in a couple of weeks? It would be good if you could overlap with Shereen for a week so that she could show you the ropes.’

Inside Caitlyn, excitement began to stir. Maybe she could skirt round the problem for the few months she’d be there. Maybe she wouldn’t have to face up to anything – and more money coming in would take the pressure off her mother. Ailsa was old enough now to take a bit more responsibility.

Then again ...

‘When do you need to know?’ she temporised.

‘Tomorrow? Sorry to push you, but I can go to the agency to find someone and I do need to get this sorted. I just thought it would be worth trying you. If you can’t come, just say and—’

‘I didn’t say I couldn’t come,’ Caitlyn said hastily. ‘I need to sort something out, that’s all. I’d like to come. In principle.’

‘You would? Excellent. Can you call back tomorrow, before the end of the day? Does that give you enough time to sort whatever it is out?’

‘Yes. Yes it does. I’ll call tomorrow then, promise.’

‘Fine. Goodbye for now.’

‘Bye.’

The sun was trying to burn through the mist and the day felt more hopeful. In front of her, the traffic was rumbling across the bridge, into Hailesbank, out of Hailesbank. People going about their business, intent on making a living, meeting a friend, enjoying life. Going back to Blair King could mean a new beginning for her – if she could face it.

‘I know it’s only been a few days,’ Caitlyn said when she managed to snatch a ten-minute break around lunchtime to call Malkie, ‘and you might be busy tonight, but if you’re not, can you meet me for a drink? There’s something I need to talk about and you’re the only person I really trust.’

‘Want me to pick you up at the supermarket?’

‘No. Thanks. If we can meet in the Duke of Atholl I can walk. It’s not far and I’ll need to clear my head.’

‘I’ll drop you home after.’

‘Now that,’ she said, ‘is exactly what I wanted to hear.’

But she needed to hear more from Malkie. She wasn’t ready to tell him everything, but she wanted to see his reaction. It would be like flipping a coin – you didn’t know what you wanted to do, but when you called ‘heads’ and it came down ‘tails’ and you were disappointed, you knew then.

They’d only been out once. He’d walked her along to the skittles alley at the back of The Crossed Keys and they’d had a hilarious time. Caitlyn had played carefully and with better judgement than skill, while Malkie had been over enthusiastic, but had had luck on his side. He’d let her win. At her front door, there’d been a tentative kiss and a hug, then he’d strolled off with a wave and a ‘See you soon!’ and she’d wondered how slow he’d take it.

His affection was not in doubt this evening – as soon as she walked through the door of the Duke of Atholl, he was by her side and she was in his arms, and the hug felt solid and safe.

‘Wow,’ she grinned as soon as she could breathe, ‘that was enthusiastic.’

‘I thought you wanted support.’

‘Did I sound that needy?’

‘Just a wee bit wobbly. What’s yours?’ He gestured towards the bar.

‘Have you got a drink?’

‘Just arrived. I’ll have one pint, no more cos I’m driving.’

‘I’ll have a half, then.’

She found a table in a corner and sank down onto the over-stuffed banquette. The Duke of Atholl had once been a smart hotel, but over the years it had become tired. It wasn’t the best pub in Hailesbank, but she’d chosen it because it didn’t have music blaring out so loud you couldn’t hear yourself talk.

‘Here you go.’ Malkie took a long slug of his pint and slid in beside her.

‘Thanks for meeting me.’

‘I’ll never say no to seeing you.’

She managed a weak smile. The tension that had kept a knot in her stomach ever since Mr Blair’s phone call eased a fraction.

‘So what’s it all about?’

Caitlyn took a deep breath, and explained.

‘So you see,’ she finished, just as she got to the last sip of her beer, ‘I’ve got to make a decision.’

She didn’t expect Malkie to understand the ins and outs of her story, but she did trust his instincts.

‘Right.’ He leant forwards, his elbows on the table, deep in thought. ‘So you saw something you didn’t think was right?’

‘Yes.’

‘You challenged the guy, and he had an explanation?’

‘Yes.’

‘But you still thought it was wrong?’

‘Yes.’

‘You didn’t think anyone would believe you, you were just a wee junior and he was a boss.’

‘One of the partners. Yes.’

‘So you left.’

‘It was when Mick Boyce walked out,’ Caitlyn said. ‘It all happened around the same time.’ She crumpled. ‘I funked it, Malkie, that’s the truth of it. I kidded myself that I’d be helping Mum, but it was a huge mistake.’

Malkie was frowning with concentration. He was more used to making decisions about whether a rose was ready for deadheading than following the ins and outs of office procedures.

‘I’ve got it. But I don’t see the problem. You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t know for sure he did. You’ve been asked back. It’s great money. All you have to do is keep your head down and do your job. It’s a no-brainer, isn’t it?’

‘You think it’s that simple?’

He took her hand. ‘Sweetheart.’

Caitlyn’s heart swelled at the endearment.

‘You need the money. Your mum needs help. You’re great at the work. It is that simple.’

‘What if I find something else when I get there?’

‘You don’t know you will. The guy’s explanation might have been true. You don’t need to look for trouble. Just do the job.’

‘But if I—’

‘Look at me.’

She looked. Malkie’s feelings had always been transparent. When he’d been a boy, that had led him into all sorts of trouble with the bullies, but now he was a man, she loved him for it. Right now, his expression was earnest.

‘If you do come across something dodgy, the first thing is you tell me. The second is we discuss it. The third is we do whatever we decide is right. You’re not going to get into trouble, sweetheart. The worst that can happen is that you lose your job again. Isn’t it?’

Caitlyn laughed. ‘Put like that, it doesn’t seem so bad.’

‘That’s my girl.’ He pulled her close and gave her a cuddle.

‘Is that what I am, Malkie? Truly? Your girl?’

‘Oh yes,’ he said. And this time he kissed her properly.

The corner they were sitting in was gloomy, but it wasn’t dark. ‘Hey,’ someone called after a minute, ‘why don’t you two get a room?’

They broke apart, giggling like teenagers.

‘Come on,’ Malkie said. ‘I’ll take you home.’

––––––––

A
dam was resolute.

‘You have to come with me, Dad. Your brother is dying. I don’t think he has long. Don’t let him carry your grudge to the grave.’

‘The situation was not of my making,’ James Blair said stiffly. He was standing at the window of his office on the main floor in Blair King’s Queen Street premises. The street had turned into an urban race track ever since vehicles had been barred from Princes Street. Buses, lorries, cars, bicycles all fought for space and played catch-me-if-you-can with the traffic lights – but there were compensations. They were high enough above the traffic not to notice the noise, and beyond the road were grand gardens with trees that could not mask the views to the north, across the Firth of Forth. It was a small recompense, thought Adam, for enforced imprisonment in this place.

‘No,’ Adam said, ‘and it wasn’t Geordie’s either. It was my grandfather’s scheme.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Was it really so terrible?’

James swung round, his bushy eyebrows knitted. ‘He got all the money.’

‘You got the shares in the firm,’ Adam reminded him, ‘and they’ve yielded you a good income over the years. All Geordie got was an advance on his inheritance.’

‘He got it then and he got it unconditionally. I’ve had to slave here for forty years, and I haven’t been able to release any capital.’

It was an old argument, although they hadn’t aired it for a long time. Adam hadn’t dared. Now he gritted his teeth and ploughed on.

‘He got cash because he needed the money to buy the farm – and he’s been slaving away too. He’s not exactly a rich man, Dad. Farming’s no sinecure.’

Silence. James had swung back to the view, his shoulders hunched.

Adam crossed the floor and laid a hand on his father’s shoulder. ‘It’s over, Dad. It has been over for years, admit it. The settlement was fair in some ways, unfair in others. In the end, what does it matter? He’s dying. He can’t take it with him. He’s lost his son. Don’t let him lose his brother too.’

His father was breathing heavily, but he hadn’t refused.

Sensing a weakening, Adam pressed on. ‘I’m going out to see him after work today. Come with me.’

Silence.

At last James said, ‘We’ll see. Have you found a replacement for Shereen yet?’

Adam swung away, the smallest of smiles playing on his lips. It hadn’t been a ‘yes’, but it was better than a ‘no’.

‘Caitlyn Murray has just called back.’ His smile broadened. ‘She’s no fool, that girl. Can you believe it, she asked for a hefty pay rise, and when I quibbled, she said she’d checked the agency fees and I was still getting a bargain.’ A low chuckle from somewhere near the window told him his father’s mood was lifting. ‘She’s willing to come for six months.’

‘Good. I like spirit.’

James turned and pulled his chair out from under his desk. The meeting was at an end.

‘There’s a lady here to see you.’

Puzzled, Adam glanced at his diary. It was empty. He frowned. He’d been on the point of nipping out for a sandwich.

‘Did she give a name?’ he asked the duty clerk on reception. He shouldn’t have to ask.

There was a muffled conversation.

‘Miss Ghosh, she says.’

Sunita?

‘Tell her I’ll be there in five minutes.’

It had been two weeks since the difficult weekend at Loch Melfort. Adam hadn’t seen Sunita since they’d arrived back in Edinburgh full of false protestations of ‘Wasn’t that great?’ and ‘How clever you are to arrange my favourite hotel for me.’

That was bad of him. She’d meant well; it hadn’t been her fault that Molly had been there, dampening his enthusiasm. Nor had it been her fault that he’d allowed Logan to tempt him along to Billy’s seventieth birthday party last Sunday, but, wrung out, he’d called her and cancelled their evening date.

He set his desk in order, pulled his jacket off the hanger on the back of the door, ran his hands through his hair, and headed for the stairs.

‘Hi, darling. What a nice surprise.’ He took both her hands, pulled her from her seat and kissed her cheek. ‘You’re looking exceptionally smart today.’

The hair that sometimes hung so heavily to her shoulders was neatly coiled and swept to the back into some sort of bun arrangement. ‘Bun’, Adam thought, was perhaps not the right word – it smacked of spinsterhood. This was elegant. The coiled hair hung low to her collar, thick and shiny, and showed off her long neck.

He took her arm and turned her half round. ‘It’s nice. I haven’t seen you wear it like that. It makes you look very businesslike. Are you in court?’

She shook her head. ‘Just meetings. Have you time for lunch?’

‘Only if we can grab a sandwich somewhere. Sorry, but I’m quite pushed for time today. I have to go out later.’ He steered her outside and down the wide stone steps that swept down to the busy pavement.

‘That new deli, then? The girls at the office were saying they make great sandwiches to order, and the coffee’s good.’

‘Perfect.’

She tucked her arm through the crook of his elbow and they strolled along the street. I couldn’t ask for a better partner, Adam thought. Her figure was stunning; she was clever, and fun to be with. On an impulse, he stooped to kiss her cheek. It was smooth as a polished pebble and the colour of light toffee.

‘What was that for?’