6 The Queen of Scots Mystery by Cecilia Peartree Read Free Book Online

of Christopher’s face, Jock wondered if he’d done the right thing in bringing them all here. But after a while the greyness had gone from Christopher’s skin, and some of the tension from round his mouth. There were still the dark circles under the eyes, but they would take longer to go. It would do Christopher good to think about what Penelope was going through, too. He did tend to wallow in his own problems and anxieties – far too much, in Jock’s opinion. You couldn’t solve everything by delving about in your own head and fishing out inner resources. They weren’t always enough.
    It was difficult to make himself heard above the general background noise of people eating and drinking, and exchanging platitudes, but Jock hadn’t been a teacher for nothing.
    ‘Can we have a bit of order?’ he requested, raising his voice only a little. He noticed with amusement that Darren Laidlaw and Zak Johnstone fell silent before anybody else did. It was only a few years, after all, since they had had the benefit of Jock’s teaching methods. Obviously the brainwashing was still effective. They even turned and shushed everyone else. Maybe they thought the whole class would get kept in if one person was still talking.
    ‘Would you like to say a few words, Penelope, or will I carry on myself?’ he asked. He had never been all that keen on Penelope, not being a fan of stout middle-aged women in beige – he preferred the no-nonsense checked shirt and dungarees style of Rosie from the cattery, or the slightly gypsyish look of Tricia Laidlaw, although he could never decide which appealed to him more – but there was no doubt that on this occasion Penelope deserved to be the centre of attention. Normally Christopher would have taken charge of this kind of gathering, harking back to the days when he actually chaired a small community group, but you only had to look at him to see he wasn’t fit to do so. Jock had felt responsible for stepping into the gap, and of course he was the one who had led the little group round to Christopher’s house in the first place too.
    Penelope muttered something and carried on staring at her knees. Zak’s hand moved almost imperceptibly closer to hers on the arm of the chair.
    ‘We’re going to need to stick together to sort this out,’ Jock continued. He hoped he didn’t sound too Churchillian. ‘What with Amaryllis being – away – and Mr Smith being out of action, we won’t be getting any help from the professionals this time. Neil Macrae’s in custody and that means the Queen of Scots won’t be opening its doors again any time soon, even if it wasn’t a crime scene. We’ll have nowhere to go and nothing to do. We need to get Neil’s name cleared, and the Queen of Scots re-opened. Think of all the Pictish brew just sitting in there waiting to be drunk. The bottles of whisky and vodka getting dusty with lack of use. The crisps mouldering away in their bags…’
    He glanced round and encountered some horrified expressions and some amused ones. He had evidently strayed quite a long way from being Churchillian.
    Maisie Sue applauded. He was almost sure it wasn’t ironic.
    ‘I didn’t know you were so poetic, Jock,’ said Dave. ‘That was quite stirring.’
    ‘Never mind the Pictish brew,’ said Jan from the wool-shop. She frowned as people turned round to stare at her. ‘The important thing is to get Neil out of custody.’
    ‘The important thing is to let the police establish the truth of the matter,’ said Charlie Smith. ‘Without anybody getting in their way.
    Jock was surprised by the vehemence of the glare Jan directed at Charlie.
    ‘But what if they have the wrong man?’ she said. ‘Even you must admit that happens sometimes.’
    ‘I’m not sure I should be here,’ said Charlie Smith, looking uncomfortable. ‘Where’s the dog? I can take him out now…’
    ‘No, you stay where you are,’ said Christopher.
    Jan folded her arms and closed her mouth in a tight