Alex Gray - A small weeping

‘What the hell’s going on?’

‘I’m sorry.’ Maggie looked at him, seeing the puzzled, hurt look in his eyes then, she took a deep breath. ‘I think we’d better talk.’ She motioned through to the sitting room.

Lorimer sat on the edge of the sofa but Maggie chose the armchair opposite as if touching him would somehow weaken her resolve. He watched her chest heave in a sigh that made him want to fold her up into his arms.

Her eyes were cast down towards the carpet as she spoke. ‘I’ve applied for a new post. A temporary post.

It’s just for a year. An exchange, actually.’ Maggie’s voice rose in a squeak that betrayed her nervousness. She looked up to see her husband frowning at her, trying to figure out what she meant.

There was a tentative smile hovering around Maggie’s mouth as she told him.

‘I’m going to America.’

‘What?’ Lorimer stared at his wife in disbelief. He wanted to replay that last moment, let her words sink in. America? She hadn’t just said that, had she?

There was a silence between them that seemed to go on and on. In the silence Lorimer’s worst fears about his marriage were brought to the surface like scum on a pot of bubbling stock. What was she saying? He listened numbly as Maggie suddenly rattled on about teaching opportunities and career advancement. He wasn’t hearing this properly at all. All he could think of was that he felt like she’d swung a wet dishrag across his face.

‘Hang on. Let me get this right. You want to spend a year abroad. On your own?’ He heard his voice rise in protest. When he spoke again the words came out in a mere whisper. ‘Why? Why do you have to do this, Mags?’

‘For me. I’ve wanted to do something like this all my life. Can’t you understand? I’m tired. So tired. All the time I wait for you to come home. I feel as if I’ve spent, no let’s be truthful about this, I’ve wasted so much of my own life. You’re never here. I want to talk to you. I want to spend my evenings with you. Oh, I know all about the pressure of police work. Believe me I’ve tried so hard to put up and shut up.’

Lorimer flinched at the bitterness in her voice.

‘I need to do something for myself. Before I end up simply an appendage of DCI Lorimer.’

‘Maggie, this is beginning to sound all very midlife crisis to me,’ Lorimer began.

‘Don’t you dare start to tell me I’m becoming menopausal or whatever. Just don’t dare!’ Maggie’s eyes were so fierce with passion that Lorimer sank back against the sofa cushions wondering what on earth to say next.

‘What have I got that’s my own? Eh? Tell me that? A job. A house. OK we couldn’t have kids. No one’s fault. I’m not trying to lay any blame. All I want is a year to myself doing something I might enjoy.’ Her eyes were pleading with him now. ‘Don’t you understand? I want to be me. Do something on my own.’

What about us? Lorimer wanted to say, but something he couldn’t define stopped him from uttering the words. Instead, in a voice stiff with emotion, he asked, ‘And at the end of the year?’

Maggie shrugged her shoulders. Her eyes were focused on the pattern of the carpet again. ‘We’ll see.’

Lorimer took a deep breath. He spent a lot of his working life trying hard to put himself into the shoes of other people; victims of crime, hoods, murderers, witnesses too scared to speak. But it seemed he’d failed to empathise where it mattered most, in his own home. He gazed sideways out of the window at the still clear blue sky. America. Suddenly a thought struck him.

‘Why America? This wouldn’t have anything to do with that woman, Lipinski, would it?’

Seeing Maggie’s expression gave him his answer. ‘I might have known! She’s been encouraging you to make a break for freedom. Is that it?’

‘Don’t you think I’ve got a mind of my own? OK so Divine told me a bit about Florida and, yes, that’s where I’m going on an exchange. But you’re entirely wrong in imagining that she put me up to it,’ Maggie snapped back at him. Then her face softened as she added, ‘I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to.’

Lorimer nodded. He wouldn’t let this escalate into a row. Looking at his wife’s face he realised how important this moment was. If he made too much fuss then he could alienate her all together. All his expertise as a police officer had taught him that he must play this quietly. The best thing now was to reassure her, not to let her see how she’d hurt him.

‘Right. Come over here and tell me about it all over again,’ he patted the sofa cushion beside him.

Maggie hesitated for a fraction of a second then got up to join him. Lorimer resisted the urge to hold her tight and simply took her hand, giving it a friendly squeeze.

He tried to make out that he was listening carefully as she told him all over again; about the job in Sarasota, about the high school system, about the accommodation being made available to her, and about the holidays.

‘I could see you at Christmas,’ she whispered, a little sadly.

‘I should hope so,’ Lorimer replied, his tone light, belying the heaviness he really felt inside.

It was a perfect night. The moon had slid behind the blue-black clouds leaving just the glow from city streetlamps shining on the parked cars. He leant against the wall and waited. There was no hurry and certainly no fear of being seen. Apart from the fact that the CCTV cameras didn’t work in the staff car park, he was simply part of the natural background of the station, a railway worker going about his lawful business.

He shivered, anticipating the real business of the night. It was more lawful than anyone could guess, commanded by the highest authority. The woman had been hanging around for three nights in succession, eyeing up the stragglers from the last Edinburgh train, flashing her bare legs around the taxi rank. She’d disappeared with a man every night and somehow he knew she would keep coming back. A quick glance at his watch told him it was nearly time.

He heard her high heels click-clacking over the pavement before he saw her walking briskly towards the automatic doors, her short red skirt riding up against those white thighs.

‘Hey!’ he called out softly and grinned as he saw her pause midstride and peer into the darkness.

Moving out of the shadow he waved his hand, gave a flick of the head indicating that she should come over.

As she smoothed down her skirt and sashayed over he could see that she was younger than he’d thought. A momentary qualm was quickly replaced by disgust at how much she’d sullied her youthfulness. The grin on his face was a rictus. It would never do to reveal how he really felt towards her. The woman stopped in front of him, flicking back her white-blonde hair, a black shoulder bag clutched tightly with one hand. He could see beyond the caved-in cheekbones and the dull eyes to the girl she might have been before she’d chosen this way of life. With one crooked finger he beckoned her further into the shadows.

‘Ye wantae do the bis’ness?’ She was chewing gum, her jaw moving in wide circular movements. The sound of saliva slapping against her tongue was like a dog wolfing its meat. Something turned in his stomach.

He swallowed hard, nodded and took the woman’s arm. ‘Over here,’ he said, leading her into the shadows of a small building tacked on to the back of the station. It was where all the green rubbish bins were corralled together behind a mesh fence. A padlock swung loose on its hasp.

‘Ah’m no gonnae go in therr,’ she protested, tugging against his grip.

‘Aw, c’mon,’ he coaxed. ‘Give’s a kiss.’ With one hand he swung open the gate and pushed her inside the compound, his body already hard against hers. There was no struggle as his mouth enclosed her thin lips, more an acquiescence. He could feel her body relent as he pulled her hands around his waist, walking her slowly over to the nearest bin.