Part 20 (1/2)

The Menzies' pied-a-terre in Edinburgh was a three-storey Edwardian mansion in a conservation area a couple of miles from the city centre. It was set well back from the road behind a screen of cherry trees and sported an imposing entrance with a magnificent stained-gla.s.s door.

Annoyingly, there was a car blocking the driveway so Buchanan had to find a parking s.p.a.ce a good hundred yards down the road and walk back. As he waited for an answer to his ring, he checked out the rest of the street and estimated that a decent-sized bomb in this area would probably put Lloyds out of business. 124. The door was opened to them by a mature lady wearing a cheap plastic raincoat over a nurse's uniform.

'Mr Buchanan? Yes, do come in. Mr Menzies is expecting you.' She led them into a hallway and added, 'If you'll excuse me for a moment I'll just make sure Mr Menzies is ready to see you.'

Fizz watched her disappear through a doorway big enough for a horse and cart and muttered, 'It's like St Paul's Cathedral. How do people live in places like this?'

Buchanan moved away from her without answering and checked to see if a painting of a woman in a big hat was indeed by one of the Scottish colourists. It was. It was an original Fergusson and probably worth several thousand pounds. Not in a place of honour in the drawing room but tucked away in a gloomy corner, flanked by a faded strip of tapestry and a Turner print. As he was about to draw Fizz's attention to this indication of nonchalant affluence, the nurse's voice floated back to them.

'What's this, Mr Menzies?'

She was answered by an indistinct rumble, presumably from Mr Menzies.

'Aspirins? No, I don't think so, sir. An aspirin bottle, yes, but these are your sleeping tablets, aren't they? You've been saving them up again.'

'You know d.a.m.n well that one tablet's no use to me when my arthritis is bad!' quoth her patient, in a voice made just audible by irritation.

'You can talk to Doctor Russell about that when he comes in tomorrow and he'll probably prescribe something different. Two of these would knock you out for twelve hours, you know, and we can't have that.'

Her patient's voice dropped to a rumble again but they could hear the nurse speaking briskly to him as she tidied him up. Presently, she returned to the hallway smiling cheerfully.

'I hope you don't mind if I leave you in charge for a couple of minutes, Mr Buchanan. I'm just popping down 125. to the pillar box at the corner to post a letter that must catch the uplift at three-fifteen. I thought I could be there and back before you arrived but I think I can still make it.'

'No problem,' Buchanan said, and added as an afterthought, There's no probability of an emergency, I don't suppose?'

'No, no. Mr Menzies is in fine fettle apart from his arthritis,' she smiled, b.u.t.toning up her coat and flipping her hood up over her hair. 'You'll have no trouble, I promise you, and I'll be back before you know I'm gone.'

She pushed open the ma.s.sive door, ushered them through, and left them to make their own introductions.

The Menzies patriarch was big enough to have made four of his wife and at least two of his son, but he shared Niall's placid blue eyes and his air of geniality. He was ensconced in a long-legged chair by a coal fire and had been playing Free Cell Patience on one of those tables on wheels that can be pulled across the knees. He, or the nurse, had pushed the table aside but as he went through all the formalities of asking after Buchanan senior etc, his eyes kept flicking across to the unfinished game as though part of his mind were still at work on it.

'Yes, yes, Niall told me on the phone that he and his mother had had a visit from you during the week. Quite cheered Muriel up, he says. She's been on and on about your father ever since, seemingly, and reminiscing about the old days when we were just starting up the business.'

He shook his gaunt, balding head and smiled, one k.n.o.bbly fist incessantly ma.s.saging the other. 'Those were the good years, Tam. The years of struggle and worry and small triumphs. Not the years when we had made our packet and could rest on our laurels. No. It's better to travel than to arrive, you know. I never believed that when I was a young man like you, but it's true.'

Buchanan could hear the slam of the front door as the nurse returned, followed by the rustle of a plastic coat being briskly shaken. 126. 'Money doesn't make you happy, huh?' Fizz piped up from her perch on the window seat. 'But you have to admit it makes unhappiness a lot less uncomfortable.'

Menzies bent a look of avuncular affection on her urchin face. 'And what would a la.s.sie like you know about unhappiness, eh? Nothing in your head but boyfriends, at your age, and you'll have plenty of those, I've not the slightest doubt.'

Buchanan's breath caught in his throat but, luckily, Fizz was disposed to make allowances for his advanced age. She said, 'I'm unhappy about the sale of Lammerburn Estate, to tell you the truth.'

'Aye, well I'm not too happy about it myself,' he said frankly, wincing a little as he heaved himself round to see her better. 'Of all our houses, Lammerburn was my favourite but I'm told we have to be near a hospital -now

that we're old and decrepit! -in case my wife or I should need urgent attention and, unfortunately, my dear, when you get to my age, it's a lot easier just to go along with the experts.'

There are hospitals quite close to Lammerburn,' Fizz insisted. 'And even here, you're not so near the Royal Infirmary as you used to be before it moved out to Little France. If it were me, and I didn't know how long I had left to me, I'd make darn sure I made the best of what I had. None of us is going to live for ever so, if you can't do anything about the length of your life, you can at least do something about the quality. What's the point of living another year or two if you're not living it to the full?'

His tender gaze lingered on her for a moment or two as though in wonder at such sagacity from one of (what he perceived to be) such tender years.

Buchanan cleared his throat and said, 'The only thing that worries me, Mr Menzies, is the effect of the sale on the local community. There are eight families in the cottages and if they have to move away, the impact on the village will be severe.' 127. 'Oh, yes. Someone said something about people complaining.'

Menzies dragged his eyes away from Fizz. 'Niall is supposed to be dealing with all that. Surely he can come to some arrangement?'