The Darkest Goodbye (William Lorimer) Read Online Free Page B

David? Could he not be here today?’ she asked kindly.
    Patrick Imrie shook his head, his eyes narrowing. ‘You didn’t know about David, then?’ he asked.
    ‘No, what’s wrong?’ Maggie frowned.
    ‘Took a stroke a couple of years back,’ Patrick sighed. ‘He’s in a nursing home in Glasgow now. Can’t speak much, can’t get about.’ He shrugged.
    ‘How awful,’ Maggie exclaimed. ‘The poor fellow!’
    ‘Aye, well.’ Patrick paused to take a slug of whisky. ‘It’s us that’ll be poor soon enough,’ he remarked. ‘Cost of the nursing home’s just about crippling us. Was a time when we could just sell a beast to pay for an emergency. Now…?’ He shrugged again. ‘Farm’ll have to be sold off before next spring,’ he added sourly.
    ‘Oh, no, that’s terrible!’ Maggie said, a sympathetic hand touching her cousin’s arm. ‘What will you do? Where will you go?’
    ‘Ach, that’s what I asked my father time and time again when he insisted that David be put into that place. Costs more than a thousand pounds a week,’ he said, glancing up at Lorimer as if to gauge his reaction. ‘We can’t sustain that sort of expense for much longer. We’ll have to move somewhere else. Hope the council can rehouse us. Unless…’
    ‘Unless?’ Lorimer asked.
    ‘Well, he doesn’t keep well, you know,’ Patrick said, lowering his voice. ‘David, I mean. A sudden turn for the worse and he could be away.’ The farmer’s eyes widened as he nodded. ‘Could happen any time.’
    Maggie said nothing, then, as an older couple made their way to greet Patrick Imrie, she and Lorimer walked slowly through to the main room where a buffet had been prepared.
    ‘Goodness,’ she said softly, once they were out of earshot. ‘I didn’t know about cousin David. Oh dear. I’ve been sending Christmas cards and wondering why we’d not heard back from him. Poor Uncle Robert!’
    ‘Aye, and poor Patrick. What a state of affairs to be in,’ Lorimer murmured, picking up a couple of triangular sandwiches and a sausage roll.
    ‘Well,’ a woman’s voice broke into their conversation, ‘it would be a God’s blessing if
poor
David would just slip away in his sleep. Save us all a lot of grief!’
    Maggie opened her mouth to reply but a nudge from her husband made her close her mouth again and glance up at him as the woman strode away, her black felt hat bobbing on top of a thatch of red curls.
    ‘Isn’t that Patrick’s wife?’ he whispered. ‘She was by his side at the front of the crematorium.’
    ‘I couldn’t see,’ Maggie admitted. ‘Guess your height lets you notice something like that. Anyway,’ she lowered her voice even more, ‘she’s Patrick’s second wife. First one left him not long after they were married. We weren’t invited to the second wedding. Probably a quiet affair in Stirling Registrar’s Office, or we would have been.’
    ‘I suppose your Uncle Robert left the farm to Patrick?’
    Maggie shook her head. ‘That’s where you’d be wrong,’ she said. ‘I remember Mum telling me that the farm was to be left equally between the two boys. I guess that’s why Patrick has to sell David’s share to fund his nursing home.’
    ‘No wonder she’s in a state, then,’ Lorimer murmured, licking flakes of pastry from his fingers. ‘Can’t be a nice prospect to lose your livelihood and your home all in one go.’
    ‘I wonder whereabouts in Glasgow he is,’ Maggie pondered as they sat down at a circular table next to some farmers who were deep in discussion about the prices at Stirling Market. ‘David, I mean. Shall we find out and pay him a visit? If he’s as bad as Patrick makes out we may never have another chance.’
    Lorimer bit his lip. He wanted to return as soon as possible to the city and pick up the threads of his working week, but he could see his wife’s point of view.
    ‘Okay, so long as it isn’t miles out of our way,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s get the details from Patrick