‘It is?’
‘I’m Mirren, Adrian’s friend? He’s left his phone here.’
Mrs Armadale didn’t seem to recognise her name. Maybe Adrian hadn’t mentioned her yet. She refused to be rattled by that.
‘Ah, he’s not here at the moment. He stayed for Christmas but then left this morning in a bit of a hurry. He said he had work to do. I expect he’s at theExamineroffices.’ Her tone was weary.
‘On Boxing Day?’ Her mind ticked over.Mr Ferdinand told Adrian to come back to work on the twenty-eighth, didn’t he?
‘He said he had to go in, something he needed to investigate, apparently.’
‘Really?’
‘You know what he’s like when he’s got the bit between his teeth with a story, it’s all he can think about. It’s all work, work, work with that one. Just like his father.’
‘A story? Did he say what it was?’
The woman became guarded now. ‘What did you say your name was? Shall I tell him to ring you if I see him?’
‘It’s all right, I’ll take the phone over to theExamineroffices now.’
As Mirren put the phone into a padded envelope and made her way across Stratford – now packed with families on their Boxing Day walks – she tried to resist the compulsion to catastrophize.So what, he’s gone in to work? He has some story to work on. I’m sure it’s perfectly innocent. Maybe he often works over Christmas? He did say he’d do anything to save the newspaper he once loved and he’s at risk of losing his job if the parent company shut it down. He’s probably busy getting the New Year edition ready while Mr Ferdinand sleeps off his turkey and trimmings and doesn’t care a jot if his business is going under. That’s all it is.
When she reached the doors of theExaminershe found they were locked but there were lights on up on the top floor where the microfilm room was, and when she rattled the letter box and pressed the bell, she caught a glimpse of the blind in Mr Ferdinand’s office cracking open and an eye peering down at her, but it was gone in a flash.
She called for Adrian through the letter box, not minding if she looked a bit mad hollering in the street, but no one came down. Thinking quickly, she opened the envelope and punched her number into Adrian’s phone, saving it as a contact, before posting it through the letter box inside the envelope. She’d been sure to save his number into her own phone too and she quickly rang it and left a voicemail.
‘Adrian, are you in the offices? It’s me. Listen, I don’t know if you’re working today or… maybe you’ve got a big story you’re working on…’ She couldn’t quell the doubts circulating in her mind now. ‘Just, please remember what we promised about Wagstaff, OK? It’s Jonathan’s business, nobody else’s. I’m sorry I’m saying this. It’s not that I don’t trust you or anything…’ Her words tailed off. ‘Call me when you get this? OK? Bye then.’
She cast one last look up at the building. What was going on in there that meant someone was working on Boxing Day, and why hadn’t Adrian come back to the barge when he realised he didn’t have his phone? Was his mum right? Was he so distracted by a new scoop that he wasn’t thinking of anything else? He wasn’t thinking of her?
With flutterings of anxiety in her chest she made her way to St.Ninian’s Close. She had to tell Jonathan, right now.
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
To be asham’d to be my father’s child!’
(The Merchant of Venice)
‘Kelsey, will you do me the honour of… no, no, gotta get this right.’
Jonathan kneeled down in front of Kelsey’s bedsit door, murmuring the words in rehearsal, his hand nervously patting at his pocket. ‘Will you be my wife?Argh! No.Will you let me be your husband, and I’ll love you ’til…’
He heard the footsteps on the stairwell. They’d only just returned to Stratford after the long drive and having dragged their luggage back upstairs together, Kelsey had remembered her camera in the boot and run out to the hire car to get it. He swallowed hard at the sound of her approach.
He’d failed to pop the question by the pretty lake on the roadside that morning, thinking how their grandkids should be able to tell a better story about their grandparents’ engagement than it taking place over takeaway sausage rolls and lattes at a motorway services no matter how deep the snow on the roadside or how many fancy ducks were gliding by at the time. He’d considered doing it first thing when they woke up so all the Andersons could celebrate with them but Calum was determined to drag a half-asleep Kelsey outside for a snowball fight and then the moment was gone.
He had to do it now. His flight was leaving just before midnight and he had to set off for the airport soon. ‘Come on Jonathan, screw your courage to the sticking place…’ He was on his feet and running his palms against his sides when he heard the voices –twoScottish voices – behind the door.
Kelsey was asking what she’d been up to over Christmas day and Mirren was muttering something about it being just a quiet one and trying to stop Kelsey going through the door. ‘I need to talk to you…’ Mirren said.
Kelsey let the door swing open and greeted Jonathan with a quick kiss. He was pale and flustered and still standing limply in the middle of the room. ‘Got it.’ She held the camera case up by its straps. ‘And I found Mirren outside, too! Mirren, do you know it’s snowing in Scotland? But it had cleared up by the time we drove through Northumberland.’
‘Kelsey, can we have a word, just us?’ Mirren sounded desperate.
‘Actually, there’s something I need to show you.’ Kelsey looked as nervous as Mirren and Jonathan now. ‘Jonathan, where is it?’
