The Fire by Robert White Read Free Book Online Page B

was a new one on me.
    I sipped the amber liquid and felt it trickle down my throat. The natural flush of warmth from the Dalwhinnie relaxed me. It was obvious Rick had something to get off his chest. I sat back in my seat and waited.
    Unusually for him, he'd stepped out into town without changing his clothes. We'd come straight from our newfound offices, and he sat in a plain white T with blue gloss paint splattered on the front. His Levi's were faded and torn and his boots had seen better days.
    The low level lighting in the bar seemed to accentuate the star-shaped scar on his cheek; the wound I had treated along with his scalded legs when we'd first met. There were traces of plaster dust in his hair that added to his already salt and pepper locks.
    I couldn't recall ever seeing him look so handsome.
    He spun his tumbler around on the table between thumb and forefinger; examining it closely as if looking into a crystal ball to see the future. As it turned out, tonight it was a look deep into the past.
     
    "Anne Margaret Mahoney," he said to the glass. "Childhood sweethearts they were, her and Des; a good Catholic girl from a good Catholic family. It was on the cards they would marry, long before the little bugger joined the army."
    Rick looked up and into my eyes. I thought I may drown.
    "They were engaged at sixteen, and had been together a couple of years then; but when Des announced he was joining up, it caused a big rift in the Cogan and Mahoney families."
    "Why?" I asked.
    Rick gave me a look that told me I was stupid at best.
    "How many Catholics do you think fight for the British Army against the PIRA? See... the part of Glasgow Des is from, ain't too far removed from Belfast. Most Glasgow Catholics can trace their families back to Ireland. And, I can tell you this, the sectarianism is no different from what you'd find over the water either."
    "Ah, I see what you mean."
    Rick knocked back his whisky and waved the empty glass at the barman, who nodded his acceptance of the order.
    "Anyway, as I said, it caused all kinds of shit but they still married at a tender age and everything seemed fine between them, even if Anne's parents were not too keen.
    It was bad enough she was marrying a soldier, but to see her move to England was a bitter blow for them."
    Rick pushed his finger across the table.
    "And England was only the first step. The military move you around like chess pieces on a board. Army wives get a raw deal, but Anne Margaret seemed to settle into wherever Des was posted. She did her best to make a home no matter what kind of shithole they were sent to..."
    Two more malts arrived.
    "...But it was after Des joined the Regiment that things started to go wrong. He...we...were away more than at home. Contact was often difficult if not impossible and Anne was desperate for a baby. One thing though...money was not an issue, Des was much better off. Anne no longer had to live in army housing and seemed happy in their Hereford home with her friends around her. That said, Des was keen to buy the cottage by Loch Lomond and, of course, they also bought Hillside Cottage as a rental property for holidaymakers, the place we went to when I was convalescing, you know?"
    I finished my glass and took hold of the refill. My head was swimming a little and I was unsure if it was the drink or the company.
    "Yes, how could I forget? It was such a beautiful place."
    "Well, as it happened, Anne was a dab hand with the DIY. She discovered she had a great eye for detail and spent more and more time at Hillside, finding the seclusion of the Loch cottage difficult."
    I nodded, taking everything in. "The place was stunning, but being away from your husband isn't healthy."
    Rick took another large gulp of his drink.
    "You said it...Turned out she also had an eye for the gardener, a guy by the name of Donald. She...she began an affair."
    The drink was definitely getting to me and I tried my best Scottish accent. "Ah...as in 'Donald where's