Daze lived up to his name as he took the call; he sounded as if he was still three parts asleep. He soon woke up the rest of the way, though.
‘Everett,’ I said, coldly and evenly. ‘Listen up, please. It’s Oz. I’ve had a message from home and it’s bad news: personal. I’ll tell you all about it when I know all the details myself, but I have to go back as early as I can tomorrow. I need Barbara to get on to Iberia and pull some strings to get me to Glasgow as fast as they can, by whatever route.’
‘Sure man,’ he rumbled. ‘Oz, what sorta news is this?’
‘Don’t ask, mate. I’ll tell you when I can. I’m sorry you’re stuck for an announcer for tomorrow’s matches.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll have Liam do it.’
‘Aye, he’ll love that. By the way, I’m not in the hotel just now. This is where you’ll get me.’ I gave him the apartment phone number. ‘Thanks. I’ll be in touch.’
I hung up, and picked up the restaurant card, just as Prim placed a cup of strong black coffee in front of me. ‘There, drink that,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about going to sleep. I’ve got some pills here that’ll do the job.’
‘You don’t have enough,’ I told her. ‘Anyway. I never want to sleep again. Just you keep the coffee coming.’
I looked at the card: one number was for a mobile phone, and the other was Glasgow, prefix 0141; Susie’s, I guessed. It was two-twelve local time, an hour earlier in the UK, but somehow I guessed that they wouldn’t be out clubbing. I called the second number.
Susie picked up the phone on the third ring, and she knew who it was. ‘Oh Oz,’ she cried, as soon as I began to speak. ‘I’m so sorry. Mike’s here, hold on.’ I was surprised by the speed with which she handed on the phone, but I didn’t know then that some people are afraid to speak to the bereaved. I do now: I guess they’re afraid it might be catching. Have I got news for them; it is.
‘Oz, how are you?’ Dylan asked as he came on line.
‘I’m okay, Mike. I’m sorry for what happened when you called, but I’ve got it together now. I need you to tell me what happened. Was it her heart? A cerebral haemorrhage? A road accident?’ As I mentioned the third scenario, my vision of Jan from earlier threatened to slip inside my shield, but I was strong enough now to force it away.
‘It was a domestic accident, Oz. She was electrocuted.’ He paused, waiting for me to faint again, perhaps.
‘Go on,’ I said, curtly.
‘From what I’ve been told it was your washing machine. It was faulty. It must have gone live when she switched it on to do a wash, then next time she touched it — she was killed instantly. She wouldn’t have known a thing, the doctor said.’
‘When did this happen, Mike?’
‘Just before six.’ Something tugged at my brain but I ignored it.
‘How was it discovered?’
‘When it happened it blew out all the power in the building. The Scottish Power guys isolated the problem to your flat. When they got no reply to the doorbell they forced an entrance; in case there was a fire risk, as much as anything else.’
‘How did you get involved?’
‘Our people found Susie’s number on a notepad. They called it to see if she knew where you were. I had your mobile number, on that card you gave me, so I said that as a friend, I’d deal with it.’
‘Thanks, Michael,’ I told him, not because I felt any gratitude, but because I knew he expected to hear it. ‘It took guts, I know that.’
He grunted something. I thought it might have been, ‘’S’okay.’ It wasn’t of course.
‘Has anyone been in touch with Jan’s mother?’
‘No,’ he replied, at once. ‘They wouldn’t know how. It’s our job to inform next of kin, and that’s you.’
‘Has there been anything on radio or television?’
‘Clyde carried a piece about the accident, but we haven’t released the name. I told our press people not to, until I’d heard from you that it was okay.’
‘I’d rather they didn’t,’ I told him. ‘If that’s allowable.’
‘That’ll be okay. I’ll fix it.’
‘Good man. Listen, I’ll contact you when I get back tomorrow. Meantime. .’ I knew what I had to ask next, and my shield of disbelief cracked for a moment as I approached it. Until now, this could all have been fantasy: now we were getting close to the point at which there could be no denial.
‘D’you know where she is?’ I asked him.
‘They took her to the Royal, Oz. She’ll be in the mortuary there.’
‘They won’t have done a PM or anything, will they?’ I tried to stop myself from trembling.
‘No. Not unless the Fiscal orders one, and in these circumstances, he probably won’t, unless you ask him to.’ I sighed with relief, then concentrated again. The worst was still to come, and I had to be able for it.
‘Okay. Mike, we’ll speak again tomorrow.’
‘Sure, Susie sends her love, by the way.’
‘Yeah. Thank her for us.’ The plural still seemed entirely natural to me.
As I hung up, Prim topped up my coffee. I told her, in summary, what had happened. She went as white as a sheet and shuddered. ‘As simple as that,’ she whispered.
‘I wouldn’t call that simple at all,’ I barked at her. But I was shouting for the sake of it now. My cloak of disbelieving horror was becoming threadbare. Beneath it, there was anger and I knew that it would sustain me for a while, but afterwards. .
‘Okay, okay,’ she murmured, ruffling my hair with her fingers as I sat there, mollifying and comforting me as best she could.
‘How am I doing?’ I asked her. ‘Come on; you’re a nurse. You must have seen hundreds of people in this situation. How am I handling it?’
‘Too well,’ she responded. ‘You’ve got to let it go soon, Oz. Otherwise when the dam bursts. .’
I stood and walked out to the terrace, carrying my mug, as she followed me. I turned, leaned my back against the railing, and looked down at her. ‘I know that, Prim,’ I said. ‘But I have to hold it together while I do one more thing. I guess you know what that is.’
She nodded.
‘You do one more thing for me, then. Let me be alone while I tell him, and afterwards. Take a couple of your pills and go to bed. Leave me the Faustino, and a key to get back in. I may go out for a while.’
She reached up, took my face in her hands, drew it down, and kissed me on the forehead. ‘Is there a perverse law of nature, do you think,’ she asked me. ‘One that abhors perfection?
‘That’s what you two were, you know, you and Jan. I knew it in my heart of hearts that day up in her flat in Castle Terrace, when she helped us give that man the slip, and sent us off in her car. I remember looking at the two of you as you said your goodbyes and thinking, This is crazy. The perfect couple and they don’t even realise. But I was in love with you too, and at that point I had you, so I was selfish, and put it out of my mind.’
Her eyes had filled with tears again. ‘I am so sorry, my love,’ she whispered. ‘You did not deserve this.’
I shook my head. I knew that the dam was cracking, and that a sea of grief and despair was barely being restrained. ‘No, Prim. She didn’t deserve it. Now go, please, and leave me to make this last call, while I still can.’
I took my mobile phone from my pocket as soon as she had left the terrace, turning to face the sea as I dialled the number. I knew that there was no chance at all that these two would be out clubbing. The phone rang for a while until, eventually, I heard it lifted. ‘This better not be a wrong number,’ a gruff voice growled.
‘It isn’t, Dad, it’s me.’
‘Eh? I thought you were supposed to be in Spain, son. In fact I know you are; we watched you on telly tonight. What is it? Are you pished?’
I steeled myself to reply. My senses were heightened as never before, so that I could hear my own voice, hard and controlled. ‘Yes, I am in Spain, Dad, and no I’m not drunk. . yet. Is Mary awake?’