‘This is Alice and Spence.’
‘Aye. We’ve met.’ He puts out a hand to Spence then me.
‘They wanted to know about Mike… Alice is a writer. She’s…’
‘Is she now?’ He folds his arms.
‘She is,’ Spence replies.
‘Oh, ignore him, his bark’s worse than his bite.’ Kate looks up at her husband. ‘She wants to write about Michael’s work. His art. His writing…’ she tags on at the end.
‘Really?’ His voice is flat.
‘Oh, you silly old sod. You’ve nowt to be jealous of.’ She meets my eyes, mischief in them. ‘He knows the whole story, how I felt back then.’ She elbows him good naturedly. ‘Been with your sorry arse for most of my life, haven’t I?’
Bobby’s face softens as Kate pops up on tiptoes and kisses his cheek.
‘Silly bugger,’ she says again shaking her head. ‘So, what do you think?’
Bobby has softened, his hand rubbing his chin. ‘Aye. Reckon he’d have liked that. I didn’t know him too well, but he was a decent bloke. Got me a job at the pub when times were hard.’
Kate grins as though to sayYep, that’s our Mike.
‘We’re out of cheesecake, love. Thought I’d check if you had one ready?’
‘Yep. All ready.’
‘We’d best be off,’ Spence says, standing. ‘It was lovely to meet you, Kate.’
I follow his actions as he leads the way into the hall. At the foot of the stairs, I pull Kate into a hug. Spence steps back, holding my bag. ‘Thank you. We’ll pop back tomorrow for the letters. When is a good time?’ I ask.
She looks at Spence, eyes dropping to my bag clutched in his hands.
Behind her, Bobby is moving around in the kitchen.
‘How about three?’ she asks.
‘Perfect.’
‘And thank you. For coming to see me.’ She fiddles with the ring again. ‘I still miss him. Even after all these years.’ She nods to Spence, standing by the door, his phone back in his hand, before she pulls me into another hug. I don’t want to go. I want to spend the rest of the day learning more about Michael.
‘You’ve got a good one there,’ she says quietly into my ear.
I pull back. ‘Oh, we’re not… We’re just friends.’ She tilts her head, her mouth opening as though she wants to say more.
But she doesn’t.
41
SPENCE
‘Mike used to come here,’ Al says, looking up at the sign outside the Cap and Ale pub. ‘Pickled egg shuck up inside a packet of Walkers ready salted.’ Her voice takes on that wistful tone again.
‘Sounds disgusting. Can’t imagine his breath was all that fresh either. What a dreamboat…’ Dreamboat. Who even am I right now? Georgia’s message is rubbing up against Alice’s hopeful tone. It’s clear from the photos and exclamation marks that she loves Edinburgh so far. True to her word, Heather has kept me updated with every bit of progress, even asking me if it’s OK to let George go to the loo on her own in a museum. She’s trying so hard.
‘Is Georgia having fun?’ she asks as I tap out a quick reply.
‘Yeah… she really likes it.’
