Sewing the Shadows Together by Alison Baillie Read Free Book Online Page A

remembered trying to keep Shona away from the amusement park, which was filled with Elvis look-alikes hanging on the back of the dodgems, and shifty-looking men bent over the slot machines. She ignored him, of course; she always thought she knew best.
    As the bus approached the centre of Edinburgh, he saw the massive hulk of the castle rising above Princes Street Gardens and the timeless silhouette of the churches and high buildings stretching along the Royal Mile. Getting off in George Street, he was surprised to see the crowds of shoppers. Sundays were obviously very different from when he was young.
    He had the feeling Great King Street was in the lower section of the New Town, so he set off down Frederick Street. When he saw the Forth glittering in the distance, and the huge outline of St Vincent’s Church at the foot of the hill, it all came back to him, and he was soon turning into the wide cobblestones of Great King Street on his right.
    Number 95 was the large grey-stone building on the corner, with wide stone steps leading up to a black door with an arched Georgian fanlight above. He saw DUNBAR on the top brass plate and, after a moment’s hesitation, pushed the buzzer. The door creaked open without any questions from the entry system and he climbed the worn stone steps to the top floor.
    The door was open and Sarah stood waiting, silhouetted against the light from the hall. Her dark hair framed her face and the soft heather-coloured pullover moulded beautifully to her body. She reached out her hand and kissed his cheek. A soft breath of perfume. Tom felt aware of his heart thumping, his movements awkward. He regretted being so late and the lack of a bottle of wine or a bunch of flowers.
    ‘I’m so glad you found it. Come in, you’re just in time.’ Sarah leant forward and whispered in his ear. ‘Don’t say anything about Logan Baird, please. Just keep smiling.’
    She led him into the dining room where a long table was set for six. Nearest to him was a smartly-dressed lady in her seventies. Her thin white hair was elaborately styled into a candyfloss halo and her face was carefully made up, with rouged cheeks and arched pencilled eyebrows.
    ‘Mum, this is Tom McIver. He was at school with Rory. He’s just over from South Africa. Tom, this is my mother, Flora Campbell.’ The old lady looked carefully at Tom and extended her bony hand.
    ‘You’ve certainly travelled a long way. What do you do in South Africa?’ Tom muttered his stock answer about odd jobs here and there and the old lady visibly lost interest. ‘Rory isn’t here, you know. Working again. He has to work so hard. He’s on television, you know? Meets all kinds of interesting people.’
    Tom nodded and Sarah led him round the table to an attractive, dark eyed young man with floppy brown hair. ‘This is Nick.’
    ‘Nice to meet you.’ His smile and charm made him very much his father’s son.
    Next to him sat his sister Lottie, similar but somehow less attractive. Her long brown hair shone, reflecting the light, swinging like a curtain when she moved. Definitely her best feature, thought Tom, like a shampoo advert. Her boyfriend Liam, blond with pale lashes and eyebrows, held her hand under the table. Rory was nowhere to be seen.
    As Sarah began to serve the traditional Sunday lunch Mrs Campbell fixed her gaze on Tom again. ‘Why are you here?’
    Tom started to explain about going to the Western Isles to scatter his mother’s ashes, but she interrupted him. ‘I mean, why are you here today? Rory isn’t here.’
    Tom didn’t know what to say. He wondered himself. Sarah hesitated and then said carefully. ‘Tom is Shona McIver’s brother.’
    The old lady looked blank at first, but then leant towards him and tapped his forearm. ‘Shona McIver, yes, I remember – dreadful business. Most upsetting at the time. But it’s a long time ago now and life goes on.’
    Nick raised his eyebrows and tactfully asked how long Tom was staying.