The Grace Girls (58 page)

Then Kirsty had walked with him out to the car on her own. ‘I can’t believe that’s just happened,’ she whispered as they walked along. ‘You didn’t say you wanted to meet them.’

‘It had to happen sooner or later,’ Larry said quietly. ‘I want them to get used to me, and get to know me. And they seem like lovely people, which isn’t a bit surprising since they have such a lovely daughter.’

‘Oh, you know all the right things to say.’

‘We’ll go for that meal on Tuesday night, and I’ll pick you up around seven,’ he said to Kirsty as he got in the car. ‘Although I haven’t a notion how I’m going to get through the next two days without seeing you . . .’ He halted, then he reached into the glove compartment. ‘I’ll give you my business card, it’s got my address and phone number on it. Maybe you might give a ring . . . or even if you could get away for an hour or two tomorrow afternoon or something, we could meet up?’

A broad smile broke over Kirsty’s face. ‘I’ll definitely ring you tomorrow – are you in all day?’

Larry nodded and laughed. ‘My one day of rest, I sit in all day reading the Sunday papers and listening to the radio.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I can even watch the telly now in the evenings since I treated myself.’

‘And will you cook for yourself?’ Kirsty asked, her voice high with surprise.

Larry nodded. ‘It was one of the things they taught me in the home . . . I can cook more or less anything.’

‘I’m impressed,’ Kirsty whispered, looking into his eyes. ‘Even more impressed.’

‘Weren’t you terrified staying in a big old hotel room all on your own?’ Sophie asked when she came back into the house.

Kirsty shook her head, trying to answer the question wit
hout telling a direct lie. ‘I wasn’t a bit frightened,’ she said. ‘The hotel was lovely and we were well looked after. I was more worried about you and my daddy thinking I’d done a bunk or something – and then when we heard the news in the hotel about the murders I raced to the reception to ask them to let me phone a message through to the post office.’

‘Well, luckily the postman came before we knew you hadn’t come home,’ her father said now. ‘But even though we got the message we were still worried about you being out all night with people we don’t know very well. And especially with the majority of them being men – men behind the bar and men in the band and that kind of thing. It’s no place for a young girl to be out on her own.’

Then, when she could just imagine the awkward questions forming in her father and mother’s minds, she went quickly on, trying to fill in the answers for them, ‘Och, there was actually plenty of girls and women,’ she told them. ‘I got chattin’ to this lovely young waitress from Carluke, and she ended up having to stay the night as well. Quite a lot of the staff couldn’t get home because the taxis were taken off the road. I think they have to do that regularly in the winter – it’s because a lot of the roads are narrow and on severe slopes. The slightest bit of ice or snow makes them very dangerous for driving.’

‘Well, it’s a place you’ll have to think twice about going to again,’ Fintan warned.

Sophie nodded her head. ‘That’s true,’ she said. ‘The Clyde Valley is very high up. And you say you had a room all to yourself?’

Kirsty nodded. ‘A lovely big double bed, and the cover of it matched the curtains and chairs.’

Her mother looked very impressed. ‘When I do the bedrooms up again,’ she mused, ‘I must have a go at matching things up.’

Kirsty heaved a secret sigh of relief. She had got away w
ith it. But she and Larry would have to be very careful from now on, until they picked the right time to tell every
one about them. They had driven very carefully from the hotel down into Lanark and then taken it very slowly out into Carluke and then Wishaw. When they got there and realised they would be parting from now until a rehearsal on Tuesday night, Larry suggested that they stop off somewhere quiet for a cup of tea or coffee.

‘I want us to go out properly, Kirsty,’ he had told her earnestly, holding her hands across the café table. ‘I want to take you for nice meals or to a show or the pictures . . . all the things that couples do. I want to make up for all the things we could have done at Christmas . . . all the time we’ve wasted.’

Kirsty’s heart had just soared and soared. She had not the slightest doubt in her mind that Larry Delaney was the man for her. The man she would spend the rest of her life with.

‘Maybe we could cut the rehearsal short and go out some­where for an hour on Tuesday night,’ Kirsty had suggested.

‘Maybe we could just cancel the rehearsal completely,’
Larry had said, laughing, ‘and have the whole night to ourselves. You don’t even need to rehearse, Kirst
y. Your singing comes so naturally to you, and you learn the new songs easily.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘You didn’t need half the rehearsals we did – I only organised them so I could keep seeing you regularly and hear that fantastic voice.’

‘Are you serious?’ Kirsty had asked, thrilled with this little piece of news. It made her feel a lot better because she still felt embarrassed thinking back to the night she had let all her feelings out.

‘I’m very serious,’ Larry had said. ‘And I’m determined that we’ll see each other more from now on.’

They had crawled back at a snail’s pace into Rowanhill – dreading parting from each other – and the only two people in the village not talking about the murders.

‘Where’s Heather?’ Kirsty asked now. She had decided she would let Heather in on her unbelievable secret, and was anxious to relive every minute of it all telling her sister.

‘Liz came out of hospital today and Heather went up to visit her half an hour ago,’ Sophie said. ‘You might want to take a wee walk up to see her yourself. The poor girl’s bound to be in a terrible state. People are saying that it might have something to do with the shock of Gerry Stewart’s accident. She was there when it all happened.’

‘D’you think it might have had anything to do with it?’ Kirsty asked in a quiet voice.

Sophie shrugged. ‘It could well have . . . but then miscarriages can happen at any time.’

Liz was sitting up in bed in her pink nightdress, with several pillows propping her up, and a bottle of Lucozade and the usual bunches of grapes and boxes of chocolates that people give to a sick person, on her bedside cabinet.

‘I don’t know what’s going to happen about the wedding now,’ she said to Heather in a thin, frail voice. ‘I’m just hoping and praying that Jim will want to carry on with all the plans we’ve made.’

‘Of course he will,’ Heather reassured her pale-faced friend. ‘He was all caught up in the plans as much as you were. I’m sure everything will be fine once he sees you up and about and on your feet again.’

Tears suddenly rushed into Liz’s eyes and Heather reached over to the box of tissues to get her some paper hankies.

‘I didn’t think I’d be this bothered about losing the baby,’ Liz sobbed. ‘I hadn’t really had time to think about it . . . I just kept putting it out of my mind. I didn’t want to believe I was expectin’ a baby before we got married. I thought that if I got the wedding all sorted first, that I’d have plenty of time when we were married and on our own to sit down and get myself all organised.’ She shrugged. ‘The poor wee thing . . . I lost it before we even had the chance to get used to having it. Before I’d even got happy about having it.’

‘And does Jim feel the same?’

Liz nodded, dabbing the hanky to her streaming eyes. That was the one thing I was sure about – he loves kids and always wanted his own.’ She stopped for a few moments, trying to catch her breath and blink back the tears. ‘He’s not been down to see me since I got home . . . he must have got held up at work or something. He sometimes goes in on Saturdays.’

‘He’ll be down soon,’ Heather said in a soothing tone, thinking that he really should have been in to the hospital this morning to bring Liz home.

‘And he’s been spending a lot of time up at the Stewarts’
house,’ Liz said, ‘helpin’ them sort out Gerry’s things.’

Heather’s stomach tightened at the mention of his name.

Her face softened. ‘D’you know he even phoned Gerry’s uncle out in Australia from work for them? They never thought about telling the uncle until the day after the funeral. Mrs Stewart was in such a state and with not sleeping too well, she wasn’t thinkin’. Anyway, as soon as Jim knew she wanted to let her brother know, he said he’d give him a ring from the office.’ She shook her head. ‘The uncle was really upset. He was very fond of Gerry from when he was a wee boy, and he said he’d been hoping that Gerry would be out to stay with him later this year.’

‘It’s a pity he didn’t go at Christmas,’ Heather whisper
ed. ‘And maybe the tragedy might never have happened.’

They chatted for a little while, but all the conversation seemed very dark and heavy, about the terrible snow some places had got and the local murders. Heather told her fri
end all about Kirsty getting stranded up in the Clydesi
de area and having to stay the night in the hotel.

‘Trust your Kirsty to land on her feet,’ Liz said, managing a faint smile. ‘The rest of us would get stuck havin’ to walk miles in the snow or havin’ to knock on somebody’s door for help. Trust your Kirsty to get stranded in a big fancy hotel for the night where they give her a room and bed and breakfast. That would be a dream come true for me. It’s the only way I would get to see the inside of a place like that.’

The baby of course dominated most of the talk, as Liz told Heather that she was the only one she could really be open and honest with. ‘I’d only told my mother and you about it,’ she said, ‘and I don’t know what my mammy even said to my daddy. I know everybody else was guessing, but I never actually came out with it and told them that it was true.’ She rubbed her nose with a tissue. ‘And I’ve no intentions of getting into big discussions with anybody about it. I’m just going to say I collapsed and I don’t know what caused it.’ She looked up at her friend. ‘That’s what happened to you at work last week, and nobody accused you of being expecting, did they?’

‘No,’ Heather said, wrinkling her brow in confusion. ‘And I didn’t think for a minute that anybody would jump to that conclusion, because I was never pregnant.’

‘Exactly,’ Liz said, brightening up a little. ‘Maybe I could just say the same kind of thing, and eventually they’ll all stop talking about it.’

‘I think people are too busy talking about these murd
ers now,’ Heather said, changing the subject. And although the subject of murder was not any cheerier, at least it had nothing to do with anybody they knew.

Just then the front doorbell rang and Mrs Mullen’s quick footsteps could be heard rushing to answer it.

‘That might be Jim,’ Heather said, looking expectantly towards the door.

A few moments later Kirsty was shown into the bedroom and Heather saw the look of disappointment on her friend’s face.

Apart from the fact that she was disappointed that it wasn’t Jim, Liz had just remembered that Kirsty had been there the other day when it all happened, and it was she who had phoned the ambulance and then run for Jim. Kirsty was bound to know what had really happened. And if she hadn’t guessed, then no doubt Heather had told her.

‘How are you feelin’?’ Kirsty asked in a genuinely sympa­thetic voice. She felt very sorry for the poor girl and all she’d gone through. Then she looked across the room at Heather, who still wasn’t back to her old self. Gerry Stewart’s death and all the drama surrounding it had really hit her hard. Kirsty suddenly felt very grateful that she’d not had anything terrible like that befall her. And she felt very lucky when she thought of the magical night she’d just had with Larry Delaney.

‘Och, I suppose I’m OK,’ Liz said, not meeting Kirsty’s eyes. There were times when she felt that Kirsty Grace could just be that wee bit flippant and sarcastic, and she wasn’t taking any chances on her being like that today. She definitely wasn’t in the mood for any of her old nonsense. Heather Grace was a different kettle of fish. She was far more serious and you always knew where you were with her. ‘I’ll be fine,’ Liz said, rubbing her nose again. ‘I’m just a wee bit run down and tired . . .’

‘You’ll be up and about soon,’ Kirsty said, ‘and things will seem different . . .’ She looked at all the grapes and chocolates on the bedside. ‘I’ll be up at the shops later if there’s anything I can get you.’

‘Thanks,’ Liz said, sniffing into her hanky, ‘but I think I’ll be OK.’ Then she looked up at Kirsty. ‘What’s all this about you gettin’ stuck in the snow and having to stay out all night?’

Then the conversation lightened up a little as Kirsty told the story with great gusto, embellishing the bits that would make them laugh and missing out the wonderful bits about Larry Delaney.

‘What a bloomin’ shame,’ Kirsty said as she and Heather walked home together, coats tightly buttoned and scarves high up around their necks against the winter chill. ‘It just seems like absolutely everything has gone wrong for poor Liz. And what I’d like to know is where was that Jim Murray? He should have been there beside her, holding her hand after all she’s gone through.’

‘I don’t think he knows what he’s doing at the minute,’ Heather said. ‘He’s lost his best friend and now he’s lost the baby him and Liz were expecting. All the plans they were making seem to be falling apart.’ She halted now as they passed a neighbour to nod and say ‘hello’. ‘I think Liz is worried about the wedding now . . .’