The Demise of a Dour Man - Cover

The Demise of a Dour Man

Copyright© 2014 by Kaffir

Chapter 11

David and Moira duly presented themselves at the police station the following morning at ten and introduced themselves to the receptionist.

"Ah yes," she smiled. "If you'd like to take a seat Constable Evans will be with you directly."

"A Welsh PC in Perth? Whatever's the world coming to?" whispered David as they sat down.

Moira grinned. "Behave yourself," she replied quietly.

David did a spaniel.

"I mean it," she said sternly but her sparkling eyes belied it.

PC Evans turned out to be the male half of the previous day's back-up team. He introduced Sheila Grant, the other half. He led them through to the back where they separated to different interview rooms.

He offered David a seat saying with a smile, "You are of course entitled to have a solicitor present."

David smiled back and shook his head. "I don't even know one up here."

"Right, sir, if you'd like to tell me the story I may have a few questions and we can include the answers to them in the written statement which will save time."

"Will you want me to write it?"

"If you would, sir. It would be quicker than dictation."

"Fine."

David told his side of the story from Moira's tearful emergence from the magistrate's chamber to Mr Macintyre's death. He did not say that if Greg North had not appeared when he did that he would have hit Mr Macintyre himself.

"Right, sir, that seems to cover everything fully. Would you care to write it all down now?"

He pushed a blank statement form and a pen across. "Coffee, sir?"

"Yes please."

"Milk, sugar?"

"Both please."

"I'll be back in a minute."

David started writing. Half an hour later it was all over.

"What about the inquest?" he asked.

"No, sir. It'll be death from natural causes."

"Great!" said David with relief. "I wasn't too worried about having to come back up here. I just didn't want Moira to have to endure it."

"I can understand, sir."

Moira's statement took rather longer as she had to explain the circumstances leading up to the estrangement with her father. She also had one crying jag. She found Sheila Grant to be a warm and comforting person.

They were both out by half past eleven, Moira rather withdrawn.

"Well now, Mrs Ingles to be, tell me who the best jeweller in Perth is."

That brightened her up no end and she beamed at him.

"Come with me, Casanova," she said grabbing his hand. "It's not far and I'm sure the police won't grudge us a bit more free parking."

"A true Scottish lass!"

"Yup!"

It was indeed only five minutes away and two minutes later they were struck dumb by the quantity and beauty of the rings they were shown.

"Do you have any preferences, my Dai?" she asked almost timorously.

"No, my darling. Your ring: your choice."

In the end she narrowed it down to four: emeralds and diamonds interspersed, an emerald surrounded by diamonds and two rubies in similar configurations. She looked helplessly at David.

"Help, my Dai, please?"

"One of the emeralds," he said gently. "They go better with your eyes."

She tried them both on again, gazing at each in turn before turning helplessly to him again.

"How do they fit?" he asked.

"The single emerald's a bit loose but the other feels fine."

"I do know which I prefer but I don't want to push you."

"Please, Dai. You're giving it to me."

"I think the single emerald, beautiful though it is, is a bit too big for your slim hand, a bit ostentatious too as a result."

"Right! That's it. Thank you, my darling. Put it on for me ... please?"

David did so and was immediately hugged, hard. At length, she looked up at him her eyes shining. "And now just the vows," she whispered.

David nodded. He was incapable of speech.

The assistant clearing his throat brought them both back to earth.

"Sorry," said David.

The assistant smiled warmly. "Quite understandable," he said.

David dug out his wallet and handed over his card. The transaction was quickly completed and the two of them walked out of the shop hand in hand. Without thinking and without a word they began to retrace their steps to the police station. Moira could not help looking at her ring frequently.

They reached the car and, without a word, turned into each other's arms and held each other tenderly. David's cheek rested on the top of her head.

After several minutes David said quietly, "Where now, my Moira? Thistle?"

"No. There's a special place at Bridgend on the Tay. It's only two or three miles."

"If that's where my love wishes to go then who am I to gainsay her?"

"Pompous ass! Why do I love you?"

"Can't think."

"Never doubt it though, my Dai."

"I don't, my Moira. I really, really don't."

"Makes two of us."

Their arms tightened around each other again.

It was a pleasant pub and they enjoyed their lunch after which they went back to the hospital and collected Mr Macintyre's personal effects, the most important being his wallet and his keys. Moira hid the keys for Daniel's use.

"You know," said Moira, "it's a crying shame to let all the food in the fridge and the freezer go to waste. I reckon we ought to take it to the food bank."

"Good thinking. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes. It's not far away from where Jean Carnegie works."

They found boxes and bags and cleared both fridge and freezer. The staff at the food bank were delighted when they called later in the afternoon.

Next was the psychiatric unit. Bridget welcomed Moira with a big smile and then stared vacantly at David. He went down on his knee in front of her and took her hand.

"The last time we met," he said, "was at Daniel and Sheelagh's wedding but before that I spent a week at your house while you were still working. We got on well."

She continued to stare at him with no sort of recognition showing.

"Mum," said Moira gently. "I have something to tell you."

David let go of Bridget's and sat back on his heels. Moira took her hand and got Bridget's attention.

"Mum, Father's died."

"Oh," said Bridget emotionlessly.

There was silence and then suddenly a light came on in her eyes. "Now he'll see what God's really like."

She turned back to David. "And he won't stand in your way with Moira anymore."

"Mum?"

Moira held her left hand out and Bridget registered. She smiled. "Good," she said.

Moira, her face alight with happiness kissed her. David followed suit.

"Very good," said Bridget and then relapsed.

"Mum, we're going to go now. It may be quite a long time till I see you again."

Bridget just stared and Moira kissed her gently as did David.

"Oh, Dai, she took it in and was happy for us," whispered Moira outside Bridget's door.

"She was switched on about his dislike for me too."

"Dai, thank you for coming. You were the catalyst. You are special, very, very special."

She leant her head against his chest for a moment and then looked up. "I want to see if Dr Rankin's about and could spare us a moment."

She led him up to the office where she was well known.

"He's here," replied the senior nurse, "but he's got a patient at the moment. Come and wait outside his office and slip in quickly when she comes out."

Five minutes later Dr Rankin and patient emerged. Dr Rankin smiled warmly at Moira. "Back in a minute," he said.

He was as good as his word and led them into his consulting room. Moira introduced David. Dr Rankin shook his hand and smiled warmly.

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