Chapter 34
The caffeine was taking a while to do its job. When Jamie closed the door behind Mr Langford he felt even groggier than when he first woke up. Coming to North Berwick was supposed to be a turning point – a breather for him to get himself together. So far it had been nothing but a disaster.
Now, in his excitement about weeding out a killer, he’d only caused a grieving family more heartache. What was he even thinking? It seemed suddenly absurd that Trisha might have sneaked into the house to remove screws from the banister rail.
Was he going completely mad?
Shadow meowed, reminding him of the other disaster.
“You shouldn’t even be here,” he said, opening the back door.
“Just because I lost one cat doesn’t mean I can take in another.
Go on! Get out!” When the cat sat staring at him, he scooped an arm under her belly and carried her to the door.
She landed quietly when he dropped her from a foot above the ground.
“Go on,” he said, shooing her with his hands. “Go back to wherever you came from.”
Her meow was a pitiful, predictable response, but he refused to feel guilty when he closed the door and marched back into the kitchen.
He dragged his hands through his hair, tugging slightly at the roots.
What the heck was he going to do about Misty?
It had been a good few days now. He should probably confess to Moira.
With his phone in his hand he went into his emails and started to type out a message. What was the best way to break the news of a lost pet to someone on the other side of the world who could do nothing about it?
He at least needed to think about how he worded it. Nothing too blunt . . . but what then? Should he say he’d temporarily misplaced Misty? Bluntness might be better.
He clicked out of his emails – he wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
Sinking onto the window seat, he jumped at the sight of Shadow on the other side of the pane, perched on the windowsill.
“Go away!” he shouted. “You don’t live here!”
Typing rapidly, he fired off a message to Violet asking how she was. He hadn’t heard from her at all the previous day, which was unusual at the best of times. After their uncomfortable conversation about marriage, it felt ominous.
Her plea for him to come home felt suddenly appealing.
Maybe that was what his trip north was all about – to make him see how good he had things back home in London.
He might have been lacking direction in his life and feeling a little flat, but at least he hadn’t been dealing with dead clients and angry policewomen and lost cats.
Life in London might not fill him with joy, but there was something to be said for the mundane.
His phone rang – Violet.
“Hi,” he said, answering it immediately. “How are you?”
“I’m okay, I suppose.”
“You suppose?”
“I’ve been feeling a bit down since the last time we spoke. I hate it when we argue.”
“Me too. I’m sorry. I was thinking about what you said about me coming home.”
“I’ve been thinking about it too. I was being unfair. If you feel as though you need a change of scene for a while, then it’s probably better you stay there and clear your head. I know you’ve been having a rough time since Andy died, and maybe this is what you need now.”
Oddly, he felt a rush of relief that she didn’t urge him to come home. Maybe things weren’t quite going to plan in North Berwick, but he wasn’t quite as ready to abandon ship as he’d been a few minutes ago. Was the caffeine finally kicking in?
“I never wanted to make things difficult for you,” he said. “Or jeopardise our relationship.”
She hesitated a moment and her voice was thick with emotion when she spoke. “I know.”
He shifted his gaze out of the window, only to be faced with the cat staring at him. “Misty still hasn’t turned up,” he said, keen to change the subject.
“Did you put posters up?”
“Yes. Lots of them.” He lifted his hand to the glass pane as though he could stroke the cat. “Do you think it would be okay if I brought a cat home with me?”
She stayed quiet, apparently unsure what to say to that.
“This cat that I found is really nice and I can’t seem to get rid of her. If no one claims her, I might keep her.”
“The stray?”
“I don’t think she’s a stray. Or he, I don’t even know the sex. It seems to be pretty well house-trained, though.”
“Take it to the vet!” she said all high-pitched. “It’s probably microchipped. Someone will be looking for it.”
“If they were looking for it they’d have put up posters – or seen my posters. And Cal said the vet will charge for checking the microchip.”
“I can’t imagine they do. But it doesn’t even matter. What would they charge? Like a tenner or something. It’d be worth it to reunite the cat with its owner.”
“True. I didn’t think about that. But if I can’t find the owner, can we keep her?”
“No! We’re not cat people. Don’t bring a stray cat home.”
“I might be a cat person.” He went to the door, feeling bad for throwing the poor thing out in the cold.
“Take it to the vet!”
“Okay. I will.”
He ended the call and bent to pick up Shadow when she bounded in through the door. “I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head. “You don’t like the cold, do you?” He sighed. “I’d like to keep you, but we need to find your owner.”
After a few minutes of cuddle time he set her down and went to search the house for some sort of cat transportation device.
He found the carrying box in the garage and attempted to coax Shadow in with a handful of dry food.
She was having none of it, and arched her back in protest when he tried to lift her in.
Wriggling out of his grasp, she made a dash for the living room and hid under the couch.
“It’s not as though I want to get rid of you,” he said, reaching under to pull her out. “We need to find out if someone is missing you, though. If you don’t have a microchip, I’ll bring you home again.”
This time he was more forceful in manoeuvring her into the carrier, but apologised repeatedly as she screeched. After securing the wire door, he inspected the angry scratch on his forearm.
Even after she’d attacked him, he still felt terrible as he loaded her into the car.
On the short drive, she mewed persistently – a haunting sound that was impossible to ignore.
Jamie found himself hoping she wasn’t microchipped and had to remind himself that some poor person might be missing their beloved cat.
Maybe there were some very upset small children who’d be thrilled to get their cat back.
No one had put up posters though, so maybe they didn’t even deserve her back. He shook that less than charitable thought away as he pulled up directly outside the veterinary practice.
A smile tugged at his lips and he punched the air when he saw the closed sign on the door.
“They’re not open today,” he called into the back. “There’s a number for emergencies but this is definitely not an emergency.”
He’d come back tomorrow, but for now he was keeping Shadow.
At least the day had one good thing going for it.