The Cloud. Episode 52

Edinburgh, February 2020

Four missed calls from Bessie, one from Katherine and one from Jeremy by the time Janet got home from Princes Street Gardens. Janet never answered her phone on the bus, nor when she walking in the street. At other times when it rang, when she could easily answer it, she didn’t and she wasn’t sure why. She just didn’t. She pondered now as she put her wet umbrella in the bath and pulled off her soaking boots. Maybe it was something about control. That therapist had said she was controlling. It was the third or fourth time that they’d met for the counseling sessions – part of the deal after Edward’s death. Not her choice. Ten pointless weeks where she’d sat on an implacably sad chair studying the book case behind the psychologist’s head. He’d had an extensive range of books for a man with a loose chin and careless claims about the state of her mind and her inability to take responsibility. Funny to think of those sessions after all this time. He’d be dead now.

She put the kettle on and poured some dry cat food into a saucer for the ferret. Bloody thing smelt like sileage again. She’d get the kids downstairs to deal with it. They were forever at her door asking if they could play with Fontane. Giggling, shy, with their sticky stubbing fingers all over their faces. They never seemed to look her in the eye. Miss Waters, Miss Waters could we come in for a minute. Just to see Fontane. How had those kids come up with that name? Their mother was a reader but even so. Theodore Fontane was a bit niche. The ferret didn’t seem to have any Germanic habits although it did appear to have an unusually high level of scepticism for Janet’s way of life.

Who to phone back first? Katherine would be best. Katherine had been loyal, respectful. Katherine had not dug around in Janet’s past. Had not dismissed her hysteria when Cyril had been kidnapped. Katherine wasn’t one to pry or judge without reason. But she was curious. Janet made herself a cup of tea, sat down at the table in her living room, and keyed in Katherine’s number.

‘Hello, Katherine, it’s me, Janet.’

‘Hello, Janet, thanks for calling me back. How did you get on with the detective. Lisa Smythe wasn’t it? What was she like?’

‘To be honest, not what I was expecting. But thorough. Polite.’

‘What do you mean, not what you were expecting?’ Janet took a mouthful of tea and pushed the ferret backwards as it jumped up onto the table. It landed on the floor with a surprised thump.

‘Fashionable. Smart. Not like you see in the movies.’

‘You probably watch the wrong movies. You should try the French ones. The woman are always impossibly glamorous. Do you think she’s going to be OK? Jeremy was confident that he’d find someone good.’

‘Yes, I think so, but I was wondering, you know… ‘

‘Sorry, Janet, wondering what?’

‘Well, just to be certain you know, given Bessie is going to spend all that money.’

‘Yes?’

‘Whether we should just do some checking?’

‘Just like watching the detectives?’ Katherine laughed and hummed the line. ‘You’re not serious, Janet?’

‘I’m probably overreacting. I’m old, Katherine, but…’

‘Of course you’re not old.’

‘Perhaps you could do, what do they call it, diligence, due diligence. Just a quick check. So that we’re not wasting any money.’

‘You snatch a tune, you a match a cigarette,’ Katherine sang.

‘What’s that Katherine?’

‘Don’t you know it? Elvis Costello?’

‘Of of course,’ Janet said, not recognising the words. ‘But you’ll do it, will you?’

‘Yes, I will. What do you want to know?’

‘Just the basics. Education, that sort of thing.’

‘Sure thing. She is watching the detectives, just like watching the detectives.’ Katherine laughed again. ‘I’ll have to go out and buy that now. Love Elvis Costello.’ Janet didn’t know how to reply. Was Katherine mocking her? So hard to tell on the phone. Maybe she’d over estimated Katherine’s concern for her. ‘I’ll ring you back tomorrow first thing.’

‘Thanks, Katherine.’

‘A pleasure. Have you got a CD player?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll see if I can find an Elvis Costello album with the track on it. Bye.’

‘Bye, bye.’ Janet put the phone down on the table. The ferret was half way up the potted fig tree in the corner of the room. She looked around for something to throw at it. Nothing obvious came to mind. She got up, switched off the light, and made her way to bed.