Stonemouth

‘I heard she could still have gone to Oxford.’

‘Yeah, well, we all heard that,’ Grier says. ‘But, leaving at the end of second year?’

‘Oh.’

‘Didn’t graduate. Again. Started a different course; gave that up too.’

‘Didn’t know that.’

Grier sits further forward, her nose only ten centimetres from mine. ‘Big family gathering at the house? Murdo and Fi’s daughter, Courtney, her christening party? Callum was drunk; Ellie was holding the baby at the time, making all the usual cooing noises you have to make.’ Grier stops, nods as though she’s just told me something conclusive, sits back, looks round, then lowers her head to mine again. ‘You really can’t tell anyone I told you this?’

‘Promise.’

‘People were talking about the kid’s future, how it’d cost a fortune if she had to go to university. Then somebody mentioned Ellie, like, in this context? And Callum said, Yeah, well, Ellie never could finish anything she started.’

It takes me a second. Then I take a breath in suddenly. ‘Shit, you mean, like, the baby she lost, not just the … the degree and not graduating?’

Grier hoists one fair eyebrow. ‘Middle name Sherlock. But, yeah; that was what Ellie thought he meant. She was … kind of upset.’

‘You think he did mean it that way, though?’

‘Hard to know with Callum,’ Grier says, thoughtfully. ‘He was stupid enough to say it without realising how she’d take it, but, yeah, he was vicious enough towards her sometimes. Might have thought it through first and meant it.’ She taps the foam from her coffee spoon and raises the cup to her lips. ‘And he was impressed enough with himself, after a few drinks anyway, to think he was being incredibly witty.’

‘Fuck,’ I breathe.

Grier drains her cup. Her little pink tongue flickers, removing foam from her lips. ‘El stormed out. Callum was even more upset,’

Grier says, then looks meditatively towards the high ceiling. ‘Or pretended to be.’ She shrugs. ‘Anyway, Ellie wouldn’t talk to him for a year; wouldn’t even visit the house if she knew he was there or going to turn up.’ Grier stirs the foam in her cup with one finger, sucks the finger. She nods. ‘There you go: that was one of the times she changed her phone.’

‘Jesus,’ I say, lost for anything beyond expressions of shock.

‘Well, that was Callum,’ Grier says, studying her coffee spoon.

‘Mostly he always found it hard to articulate what he felt? But on the rare occasions he did, it was usually something really hurtful.’ She smiles at me.

‘Ahm,’ I say, as she keeps looking at me. ‘Still, I was … I was sorry to hear he …’

‘Fell or was pushed off the bridge?’ she provides.

I must be staring at her. She flaps one hand. ‘Nah; he jumped.’ She sits back. ‘But if you’re telling the truth about being sorry to hear about it, you’re part of a small minority.’ She tips her head. ‘Close your mouth and stop looking so shocked, Stewart. Jesus, have you forgotten what my surname is?’ Without moving her head she flicks her gaze from side to side, sits a little closer and says, ‘How many people in this place have been stealing glances at me, knowing whose daughter I am?’

I clear my throat. ‘It’s mostly men,’ I tell her. Though she’s right. ‘And the reason they’re looking at you has got nothing to do with your father.’

She just laughs.

I remember the preserved four-wheel drive, the giant portrait in the hall of the Murston family home. ‘Your dad misses Callum,’ I tell her.

‘That’s compensation, or a guilty conscience,’ Grier says, quietly. There’s a pause. She shrugs. ‘They fought a lot, just before he hurdled the railings.’

‘Shit,’ I say, because I have no idea what else might cover all the implications here.

‘Oh, he doted on the boy.’ Grier sighs. ‘That’s the way it is in our family. All or nothing. Ellie got all the looks, Murdo got all the … expectation, ruthlessness? Fraser got all the viciousness. Well, most of it. Norrie got all the stuff that was left. Resentment, mostly. And Callum got all the forgiveness. The more stupid things he did, the more Don forgave him.’ Another shrug. ‘Actually Ellie got all the smarts as well. Just maybe not all the application. Think Don still feels she’d be the best one to succeed him, if she could be bothered, which she’s not.’ Grier shifts in her seat. ‘Can we talk about something else besides my … clan now? I’m bored.’

‘What did you get?’

‘What did I get?’

‘What did you get all of?’

‘All the boredom,’ she says, in a flat voice, eyelids hooded. ‘I just said.’

‘I think you got all the modesty,’ I tell her, grinning at her. ‘All the self-deprecation.’

‘Years of indoctrination,’ she says dismissively. ‘I’ve been groomed for failure. Don keeps the tape of Callum jumping, did you know that?’

‘What?’

‘From the bridge CCTV, night Cal took the plunge. Plays it back when he’s drunk and — what’s that word? Maudlin.’

‘Fuck. That is deeply weird.’

‘Not saying he gets off on it, Stu. Just plays it.’

‘Still a bit weird.’