Free Dust to Dust by Ken McClure Page B

of those who’d incurred the supposed wrath of the pharaohs when the pyramids were opened up in Egypt.

THIRTEEN
     
     
    ‘Girls,’ complained Peter. ‘Why do they always have to take so long?’
    Dr Steven Dunbar smiled at his young nephew’s impatience. They were standing outside the changing rooms at Dumfries swimming pool waiting for Steven’s daughter Jenny and his niece Mary to emerge. ‘It’s just the way things are, Peter. One of the things in life we blokes have to accept.’ Seeing that Peter remained unconvinced, he added, ‘The pizza will taste all the better when we finally get there.’
    Steven, a medical investigator with the Sci-Med Inspectorate, based at the Home Office in London, had been on leave for the past month. He had escaped to Scotland for some respite after a particularly tough assignment, which had threatened his life and exhausted him both physically and mentally. He lived in London but his daughter Jenny stayed up here in the village of Glenvane with Steven’s sister-in-law Sue and her solicitor husband, Peter, along with their own two children, Peter and Mary – an arrangement that had been in place since the death of Steven’s wife Lisa from a brain tumour. Jenny had been a baby at the time so she had never known anything else.
    In the normal course of events, Steven would spend every second weekend in Scotland, but the hell of his last assignment had meant not seeing Jenny for over six weeks so he was trying to make amends. A favourite outing for the children was always to the swimming pool in Dumfries, followed by pizza and as much ice cream as they could eat. Tradition had it that he would receive a mock telling-off from Sue when they got home but, for the children, this was part of the enjoyment.
    ‘At last,’ exclaimed Peter as the girls emerged. ‘What do you do in there?’
    ‘We have lots of hair to dry,’ said Mary. ‘You don’t.’
    ‘Talking to do, more like,’ grumbled Peter.
    ‘Are we going for pizza and ice cream, Daddy?’ asked Jenny.
    ‘You bet.’
    ‘Even if it makes Aunty Sue angry?’ she asked, suppressing a shared giggle with Mary.
    ‘I’ll fix things with Aunty Sue,’ Steven assured her.
    They emerged into the sunshine and took hands as they crossed the main road at the traffic lights to walk on the broad pavement by the River Nith.
    ‘Can we go out on the bridge for a moment, Daddy?’ asked Jenny as they were about to pass an old stone bridge crossing the river.
    ‘Oh, yeah, let’s,’ said Peter, starting to look around for pebbles.
    ‘Me too,’ said Mary.
    Jenny was content to hold her father’s hand as they stepped out onto the bridge. ‘I like this bridge. It’s very old, isn’t it?’ she said, running the flat of her hand along the stones.
    ‘Hundreds of years,’ replied Steven.
    Jenny paused to read a signboard. ‘Dev … Devor … Devorgilla.’
    ‘Devorgilla’s Bridge, nutkin.’
    ‘Funny name. Why is it called that?’
    ‘It’s named after a very grand lady named Devorgilla. She lived a very long time ago with her husband, John, here in Galloway. The history books say they loved each other very much. They even had a son who became king of Scotland.’
    Jenny seemed thoughtful for a few moments before asking, ‘Do you love Tally very much, Daddy?’
    Steven swallowed. He hadn’t seen the question coming. During the course of his last assignment, he had met a woman – Natalie Simmons, a doctor at a hospital in Leicester – whom he’d come to care for and knew could be special in his life. He had brought her up to meet Jenny the week before and thought it had gone well.
    ‘Would it bother you an awful lot if I did, nutkin?’ he asked, looking for clues in Jenny’s eyes, but she looked down at the ground.
    ‘Do you love her more than me?’
    Steven knelt beside Jenny and cuddled her tightly. ‘I could never love anyone more than you, Jenny.’
    Jenny smiled contentedly but then pressed on with her