Daisy in Chains(62)

They both jump. He gets to the phone first. He looks at the screen and pulls a face. He hands it over.

‘Dental appointment reminder for tomorrow,’ he says. ‘Sorry.’

She’s had enough. She stands up. ‘I need to get out of here. You can stay and finish your dinner, or you can come with me. Your call.’





Chapter 54


‘THEY’RE NOT THERE,’ Pete calls across Market Square as Maggie is getting out of her car. ‘Their stuff’s all there. They’re probably in a pub somewhere, although I don’t think they’re exactly welcome in most of them.’

Maggie looks round at the smart shops, the medieval buildings, the soft golden glow of the cathedral tower.

‘If you’re still determined to talk to them tonight,’ Pete says, ‘come inside and wait an hour or so. I can do coffee, or we can sit in the bar downstairs.’

‘I’m going to have a wander round,’ she tells him. ‘If I don’t find them, I’ll come and find you. Fair enough?’

‘I’ll come with you,’ he says.

So very gallant. Always determined to do the right thing. A born police officer.

‘Odi won’t talk to me if she sees me with the police. You know that. I’ll phone you in half an hour, I promise.’

He gives up and turns back to the pub. Ignoring the main entrance, he disappears around the side, into a private car park.

Maggie pulls the collar of her coat a little tighter and walks away from the main part of the town, towards the cathedral. The homeless are not welcome in pubs, there are no official shelters in the town, but the church will rarely turn away the needy.

She finds them in the nave, towards the rear, as far from the door as they can sit. To Maggie, it feels cold in the cathedral, but all things are relative and shelter of any kind must be welcome to those who have none they can call their own. Broon has removed his hat, out of respect to his surroundings, but his shabby red coat is as she remembers it. His hair is thick, salt-and-pepper grey, in need of washing. Odi’s multi-badged cap is still on her head. She sits close to Broon, the two of them sharing body warmth.

The cathedral will close in less than ten minutes. Already, its staff are asking people to leave, their tone low and regretful. So sorry to lose you, but only for now. Do come back again soon.

Maggie sinks into the shadows outside the west door and waits, listening to the chatter as a group of Japanese visitors leave, followed by an American family, then a middle-aged couple from Yorkshire.

Broon and Odi are the last, as she knew they would be, and unlike all those who left before, there is no sense of purpose to their movements. They hover on the steps before descending carefully, like elderly people who have learned to fear stairs. Neither notice her as they step out of the lee of the building into the full force of the cold air. Odi is clutching a supermarket carrier bag.

Maggie expects them to make their way out into the main part of town, where lights offer a glimpse of cheerfulness and the narrow streets some shelter from the elements. Instead they go through the dark archway and Maggie slips along in their wake. They turn again immediately, away from the town, through a second dark tunnel towards the Bishop’s Palace and Maggie loses sight of them.

The square is almost empty now. No one wants to linger on such a night. Through the windows of the Crown she can see people who are warm and fed, among friends. She sends a smile up to the man she has no way of knowing is watching her, and follows Broon and Odi.

There is something portal-like about the tunnel, because to step through it is to leave the town behind and enter a medieval world of walled gardens, moated defences and impenetrable stone walls. The moon has risen and she can see its reflection in the gently rippling black waters of the moat.

A sudden flurry on the water catches her attention. The moat attracts water birds, gulls from the nearby coast and moorhens that fly in over the meadows. There is also a resident population of swans who are fed from the gatehouse daily, summoned by the ringing of a bell.

The homeless pair are feeding the swans from the contents of Odi’s carrier bag.

‘Hello, Odi. Good evening, Broon.’

They turn slowly, as though their reactions have been dulled by the cold. She steps closer, wanting to ask them how they can spare food to feed animals, who are far from starving, but knows it will seem impertinent. She holds up a canvas shopping bag that she filled after persuading Pete to leave the house before her.

‘I brought you some food. I hope you don’t mind, but I cooked and I made too much for myself. It’s lamb stew and home-made bread. It’s still warm. I put it in a flask.’

Neither of them speaks.

‘Odi, I really need to talk to you. Just for a few minutes. Would that be all right?’

‘What about?’ It is Broon who answers, placing himself fractionally in front of his partner.

‘I want to suggest something. Odi, I know you say you remember very little about the person you saw going into the cave that night.’

Odi shuffles closer to Broon. ‘I don’t. It was too dark. I’m not even sure now that I saw anyone.’

Maggie is careful to keep her distance. ‘I understand that. But if you really want to help Hamish, then I know you’ll do your best to remember anything that could be useful to his case.’

She will have to take the absence of denial as all the encouragement she is going to get.