500 Miles from You (Scottish Bookshop #3)(90)

But he found nothing.

“Look for her on the police database,” said his colleague.

“Do not do that!” said Cormac.

“Well, you tried, you failed,” said Tim. “Might as well just hang out with the rest of us . . .”

“No!” said the sarcastic policeman. “If you want her, go get her! That’s what I had to do with Gus!”

“Where did Gus go?” said his colleague.

“Um . . . West London,” said the policeman, and everyone gave a sharp intake of breath.

“Well, I tried that,” said Cormac. “Didn’t quite work.”

“Hang on!” said Tim, possibly somewhat overrefreshed. “Where is Scotland anyway? If you drove would you get there faster?”

“Where is Scotland?”

“Focus on the question, mate, not your national pride.”

Cormac glanced at his watch. “Well, maybe. But I haven’t got a car at the moment.”

“We’ve got a car!”

The policemen immediately looked up.

“You have?”

“It’s insured!” said Tim instantly. The others nodded.

“I won’t be on your insurance,” said Cormac. “And youse are all too pished up to drive.”

“Yeah, we are,” said Tim thoughtfully. “But the insurance covers everyone.”

“Otherwise we can’t afford it,” piped up Nobbo. “We had to pool it between everyone.”

“You have a shared communal car?” said Cormac.

“Rotas are a nightmare,” said Tim.

“I’m going to run the plates,” said the police officer.

“Leave ’em,” said the other copper. “You’re off duty, Nish. Just leave it. For once.”

“Okay,” said Nish.

“You’re a great copper. You just need to know when to relax. Switch off. Do a bit of self-care.”

“You’re right.”

“Just . . . do your job. Don’t let it consume you.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Harry, looking sadly at Nish’s wedding ring.

The lads were getting up.

“Okay, let’s go,” said Tim.

“You’re not coming,” said Cormac.

“Course we are! It’s our car!”

“Also we’re not doing anything else,” said Nobbo a little sadly.

“Road trip! Road trip!”

Cormac looked at them for a second, about to say don’t be ridiculous, everyone had to go home to bed and work to go to. Except they didn’t, did they?

“Road trip! Road trip!”

Then he thought about Lissa. And then, unexpectedly, he had another thought.

He took out his dying phone. He knew Lennox went to bed early, all farmers did. But it would be there waiting for him when he woke up.

I can’t promise, he typed. But I MIGHT have solved your harvest crisis.





Chapter 79


Unsurprisingly, the boys bantered and chugged beer and yelled and tried to honk the horn for at least all the way to Birmingham. He’d explained there might be jobs up there for them, and they’d agreed instantly. Whether they’d feel the same in the morning was another story, of course.

Then, like the lads they all still were, they fell asleep, snoring loudly on the back seat, Tim up front.

Cormac had managed to plug his phone into the charger in the car—at last—and watched anxiously as the battery charged.

There were messages up till about four o’clock, jolly at first, then increasingly curt (from, in fact, Lissa and Larissa too), but they stopped fast (this was when Kim-Ange had gotten hold of the phone). Nothing recriminatory, nothing drunken or angry.

This was the worst thing of all. If there had been upset texts, he could have convinced himself there was still a chance that she cared for him, that this had meant something to her too, not just some stupid fantasy he’d concocted in his head.

He couldn’t help it. He pulled over onto the hard shoulder and texted her. Just a simple hey.

It pinged back immediately. Number blocked. His stomach plummeted.

HE WAS, HE realized, halfway between London and Scotland, 250 miles to go. Before he could fall down at her door. Or not.

He could turn around, work out his exchange, never see her again, only talk briefly about the cases. They never had to meet at all. He could go back, professional relations would be resumed; she’d succeeded in what she had to do and given her evidence. Everything would go back to normal, as if it had never happened.

LISSA WOKE SUDDENLY on the train, not sure why. At first she was completely disoriented, couldn’t remember where she was. Then she went to the window. They were flying through moonlit valleys and dales, not yet in Scotland, somewhere in the heart of the UK, between two worlds. London and Scotland. She sighed. That was what it felt like, to be in different places at once. Her heart was in Scotland but her life . . . well, her life was in London. She knew that now. She could thank that Cormac, she supposed. Whoever the hell he had turned out to be in the end.

CORMAC’S PHONE PINGED. He leaped on it, his heart beating.

Up for baby. Good news, desperate need.

His heart sank. It was Lennox, expecting him to be turning up with lads who would work for a bit. Maybe he could drop them off and turn around. Have a quick nap and head back.