Kill Clock (6 page)

"Scusey me." Devon leaned up, pointed to the fairy wand. He gave it to her and she waved it in an elaborate pattern. "Bradabra!"

Nothing.

"Thanks for trying." Pearce rang the bell but it was no more effective than Devon's wand.

He rang it one more time. Nope. He was about to go when he saw the door handle turn.

Ailsa opened the door. Stood with her hands on her hips. "You turn up after all these years expecting me to look after your girlfriend's kids?"

"Julie's not—"

"Why would I do that?"

Pearce couldn't think of an answer.

Devon took a step forward and held out her wand to Ailsa. "Have a go. It's magic."

"Sorry about the kids, Ailsa. Bit out of my depth here."

She'd invited them all in but hadn't offered anyone a seat. Kirk had sat down anyway. Slumped onto an orange beanbaggy cushion thing about two feet in front of the TV. One of those talent shows was on, a blonde baring a lot of fake-tanned skin to hide the fact that she had a voice like a drunk Yorkie. Speaking of dogs, Devon was strutting about the carpet on all fours, sticking her tongue out and panting. Hilda was sitting watching her, tail wagging.

Pearce would have liked to make himself at home too, but Ailsa wasn't making it easy. "Room looks different. Brighter."

Ailsa ignored him. Didn't look up from slowly twirling Devon's wand.

"It's nice." Sunny yellow walls. New blonde wood sideboard. Cream-coloured sofa and armchair he didn't remember. More paintings on the wall too. Dozens of them in little frames. Nothing in them Pearce could recognise, just blobs and daubs. "See you've kept up the art."

He breathed in. Smelled something spicy. Waited a while longer but Ailsa didn't respond. He leaned over, the smell stronger. Nutmeg or ginger. She hadn't been baking, though. Perfume. Fancy soap, maybe. "I'll deal with the kids myself. But I'd really like your help with something else."

She looked up at last. "You can't just traipse back into my life like this."

"This one time. Then I'm gone."

"Christ." She gave him the hint of a smile. "You're hopeless."

"Always was. I told you that."

"I'm not the person I used to be, Pearce."

"None of us is." He waited but she didn't elaborate. "Does that mean you'll help?"

She ran her fingers across her forehead, nails the colour of just-rinsed blueberries. "What is it you want?"

A muscle twinged in the back of his neck. Probably from hunching up over the steering wheel. "You still in touch with that fat bloke with the Mohican haircut?"

Her eyes narrowed. The skin crinkled underneath. "His name's Joe-Bob."

"That's the guy."

"You after what I think you're after?"

"Please."

"That's not a good idea. Remember what happened last time you got a … " She looked over to the kids. Kirk was still absorbed in the talent show. Devon was pretending to give Hilda a haircut, making snipping motions with her fingers. Ailsa didn't say the word, just raised her eyebrows.

Pearce nodded. "I'll try to be more careful."

"It's no laughing matter."

"I know that." He reached out to place his hand on her arm but she pulled back and he let his hand fall to the side. Didn't seem right to leave it there, though, so he shoved it in his pocket. "Can you do it? If not, I'll make other plans."

Kirk looked over from his cushion. "What plans?"

"Just watch the TV, Kirk."

On the screen, a couple of kids not much older than Kirk were strutting around the stage, rigged out in ballroom dancing gear. Sounded like a tango playing, heavy on the drums.

Ailsa sighed. "OK. I'll go see him."

"Great. Can't you give him a bell, though?"

"You want me to arrange this for you or not?"

"Course I do. But I need it tonight. Is there time?"

"I'll leave now. He lives just off Leith Walk these days."

"How do you know he's at home?"

"Well, you know, I thought I might text him first." She gave her head a frustrated shake. "Anything else? Or can I get on with it?"

"Go on."

She padded over to the sideboard, picked up her mobile and fiddled with it.

The music stopped. Kirk had the TV remote in his hand. The TV screen was blank. "I want to go home."

"Can't do that. There's no-one there to look after you, mate."

"Daddy!" Devon shouted from the floor where she was lying on her back with her hands curled into paws. Hilda lay next to her in the same pose. Only he just had the one front paw to curl.

Kirk stuck his thumb in his mouth and spoke around it. "My daddy's gone away. Is he back?"

"Not yet, Big Man."

Julie hadn't told them. No surprise there. A tiny part of Pearce imagined Mike sitting at home right now with his feet up, having a laugh at the idea of Pearce trying to cope with his kids. If that turned out to be the case, Mike really would be dead, 'cos Pearce would see to it personally.

"I'm not a big man. I'm a big boy."

"OK, Big Boy."

"Don't say that to me."

"Right. I thought you were a big boy."

"I am."

Ailsa's phone chimed, fortunately. She tapped the screen. "Looks like I'm going out."

"Great." Pearce clasped his hands. "Something powerful, tell him. Needs to look like I mean business. And it has to fit in a tool-bag."

"I'll ask."

"Ailsa?" Kirk took his thumb out of his mouth and wiped it on his trousers. "Pearce said my mummy was prettier than you."

Wee bastard. "I never said that, Kirk."

"Well, she is."

"You want to go wait outside in the street?"

"No!"

"Then apologise to Ailsa."

"No."

"I'm warning you."

Kirk turned the TV back on. The sparkly dancing kids had finished prancing around, bony chests heaving, fixed smiles on their sweaty spot-lit faces.

Pearce looked at Ailsa. "You want to help me out here?"

"Not particularly."

"He should apologise."

"Because his mother's more attractive than me? I'm sure she is. It's not worth getting steamed up about."

"I'm not steamed up."

"OK."

"And I never said she was more attractive than you."

"It doesn't matter."

"Fine."

"I'm going to put some shoes on." She left the room.

Pearce dry-washed his face. Gave his eyes a good rub. She was right, he needed to stay calm. Do something. "So, you pair. Want to go look for your mummy?"

"Is she lost?"

"Not exactly." What the hell was he supposed to say? Lie? Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. "I know where she is."

"Granny's? Is she at Granny's?"

"Bless you, Sweetheart."

"I didn't sneeze." Devon knotted her brow.

"You're right." If only he'd thought to ask earlier, he could have avoided pissing off Ailsa. "Do you want to go to Granny's?"

"Yeah," she said. "Hilda wants to go to Granny's too."

Pearce walked over to her. "I don't suppose you know where Granny lives?"

"Phone her."

"You know her phone number?"

"In there." She pointed behind him.

He looked over his shoulder. "Where?"

"No, silly billy. In your jeans."

Of course. He stuck his hand in his back pocket and took out Julie's phone.

The car spluttered and shook. The vibrations travelled through the soles of his boots as Pearce crunched up a gear.

"Is the car sick?"

He glanced at Kirk in the rear-view. "Sounds a bit like it, right enough."

"Will it die?"

"Not for a while yet. Don't worry."

"I'm a good driver, Pearce. Can I show you?"

"Don't think you'd reach the pedals, mate. Maybe when you're older."

"Granny lets me drive sometimes."

"That right?"

"I sit on her knee and vrooooom." He made steering motions. "I go very fast."

Pearce should have a word with the reckless old bat about that.

He'd called her before they left Ailsa's, quickly explained that he had her grandchildren and wasn't sure what to do with them.

"Where's Julie?" Granny's voice was soft.

"She … she had to go somewhere."

"What about Mike? He usually calls me every day. Not like him to be out of touch."

She was Mike's mother? No good reason she should be Julie's, when he thought about it. Still, you'd have thought Julie would have told her about her son. Or maybe not. He could see how it might be difficult.

"How come you have Julie's phone?"

"She was in a hurry. Left it behind."

"Is she OK?"

"I'll tell you what I know when we arrive."

He wasn't looking forward to it.

"Hilda's asleep. Pearce! Hilda's asleep!"

"Shh, Devon." He looked in the back. "You'll wake him."

"I'm tired too."

"Granny's 'lergic to dogs." Kirk yawned. "She sneezes and gets big plooks on her face."

"Can't have that. We better leave Hilda in the car."

"Will he get all hot and die?"

"I think he'll be OK for a few minutes."

There was a clear road ahead. Pearce put his foot down. Didn't risk going over twenty-five, though. Get everybody to Granny's in one piece, that was his priority.

He closed the window. The smell was bearable now.

A few minutes later he looked in the rear-view and saw the kids had joined Hilda in the Land of Nod.

Peace at last.