Naming the Bones by Louise Welsh Read Free Book Online Page A

He hadn’t known, didn’t know.
    ‘And you’re going to be on sabbatical for a year.’ She brightened, like a children’s nurse who had applied Dettol to a skint knee and was now about to use a sweet to distract attention from the sting. ‘You won’t have time for all this.’
    He tried to keep his words light.
    ‘There’s only so much time you can spend on research. I’m sure I could have squeezed you in.’
    She looked away. For a moment he thought she might relent, but then she turned her bright eyes on him.
    ‘We agreed it would only ever be a bit of fun. Anyway, term’s almost over, Fergus and I are going to Umbria for two months, and you’re starting your sabbatical. It makes sense.’
    ‘If we hadn’t been interrupted?’
    ‘What does it matter?’ She leant forward and kissed him gently on the lips. ‘We had fun. We like each other. Let’s keep it that way.’
    His voice was steady. He’d read about well-integrated autistics, they had to think about every gesture, smile, make eye contact . He formed his mouth into a grin.
    ‘You’re right. It was fun while it lasted.’
    Rachel touched his arm.
    Don’t flinch, don’t argue, don’t push her away.
    ‘It’ll be a great book. You’re always saying how underrated Lunan is. This is your big chance to put him on the map.’
    ‘I hope so.’
    ‘I know so. Fergus does too.’
    The pair of them discussing him. Where? Over dinner? In bed? Did he ever feature in the little bit of ciné film she ran behind her eyes while Fergus fucked her?
    He said, ‘Rachel, Fergus can’t stand me.’
    She took her coat from the hook on the back of his office door.
    ‘Don’t be so paranoid, Murray. You know Fergus. If he didn’t think you were a valuable member of the department, you wouldn’t be enjoying a year’s sabbatical, you’d be looking for a new post.’
    Murray stood at his office window. It was still wild outside. The wind caught at Rachel’s hair, blowing it across her face. She struggled for a moment with the car door, then she was in, headlamps on, reversed out and away, her only backward glance at the road behind though the rear-view mirror. It was the last time. He wondered if it was the peeping Tom or his own invitation to go for a drink that had pushed Rachel away. Maybe she had always intended to it end like this. Murray stood at the window, watching the trees fingering the sky the same way they would if he weren’t there. On his way out he stopped by the gatehouse and handed the almost-full bottle of malt to the porter, who received it with grateful, bland surprise.

Chapter Six
    THE REASONS MURRAY WATSON usually avoided Fowlers were clustered around their customary corner table, looking like a eugenicist’s nightmare. The pub wasn’t busy, but it was warming up with the overspill of office workers and students from more popular establishments so he was halfway to the bar before he spotted Vic Costello, Lyle Joff and Phyllida McWilliams and remembered that this was where they congregated late on Friday afternoons, playing at being the Algonquin club and staving off the wretchedness of the weekend.
    Maybe the need to suffer that misery so often brings in its wake would have led him into their company anyway, or maybe he would have settled for a lone pint and a nod in their direction, but then he felt a hand on his elbow and turned to see Rab Purvis’s face, shiny with sweat and bonhomie.
    ‘I’ll get this, Moira.’ It was typical of Rab to be on first-name terms with the manageress; typical too of him to add Murray’s drink to the round and a tip on top of the price. Mrs Noon nodded her thanks and Rab gave Murray’s elbow a squeeze that told him his friend was at least three pints to the good. ‘Come away into the body of the kirk.’
    It had drifted beyond the time where even late diners could pretend to be having a pre-prandial and the department’s dwindling stock of alcoholics welcomed Murray with hearty relief. He was the