Free Orkney Twilight by Clare Carson Page B

avoid any form of domestic obligation. Whenever Jim is asked to do something tedious or time-consuming, he just disappears and nobody can ever ask him about it. Official secrets. Matters of national security. I reckon that’s the appeal of the spy story to men; it’s not the complexity of the politics that’s the pull, it’s the fantasy of the man with no commitments. Personal betrayal not political betrayal, that’s the draw, that’s what people are really interested in.’
    She broke off abruptly. She was rambling: one of her feminist diatribes.
    ‘Now there’s a possibility,’ said Tom.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I think that’s the most likely explanation for the sudden trip to Orkney. He’s dodging his domestic responsibilities.’
    She frowned.
    ‘He’s having an affair,’ he said triumphantly.
    ‘I had thought of that,’ she said. Of course she had thought of that. ‘But he asked Liz to go with him, which sort of rules out that theory.’
    ‘Maybe he knew she wouldn’t be able to make it anyway.’
    ‘But if he’s having an affair, why would he let us tag along?’
    ‘To give himself an alibi; a cover story to throw your mum off the trail. She obviously suspects he is having an affair and that’s why she asked you to keep an eye on him. He must have known that she suspected him, which explains why he agreed to let you go too. The double bluff.’
    ‘But why he would go all the way to Orkney to do it?’
    ‘That’s what men are like. Don’t like to crap in their own backyard. So they go on holiday without their partners, arrange to meet their bit on the side. Playing away.’
    He was checking her reaction in the mirror. She scowled. The train plunged into the darkness of a tunnel, the noise of the wheels on the tracks echoing, making conversation impossible.
    ‘At least, that’s what married, middle-aged men do,’ he said as they emerged into the dwindling light.
    She folded her arms across her chest.
    He continued, unperturbed. ‘It’s the hair.’
    She looked blank.
    ‘Older women always go for a bloke who still has all his hair. Do you think it’s screwed you up in any way? Having such a difficult dad?’
    ‘No. I don’t.’
    ‘You don’t think it’s stopped you from forming proper relationships with men?’
    ‘No.’
    Christ almighty. They had hardly left London, hardly passed the Heinz factory, and now he wanted to talk about relationships. She wasn’t sure which was worse – the relationship questions or the questions about Jim. Couldn’t quite tell what he was really after. In which direction his sights were set. How did she get herself boxed into this corner?
    ‘Don’t you ever worry about the repeat patterns?’ he persisted.
    ‘What?’
    ‘The repeat patterns. The cycles you can’t break. Ending up like your parents.’
    ‘I’m hardly going to end up like Jim. I’m not going to turn into an undercover cop.’
    ‘Yes, but do you have a clear idea of where you are going? If you want to move forward, you’ve got to be able to leave the past behind.’
    She shivered, worn down already from the effort of keeping the conversation from sliding off track into the undergrowth. ‘How many people,’ she said, ‘do you think Agatha Christie murdered on a train?’
    He screwed up his face. ‘That’s a tough one. I’m not sure I know the answer to that. I’ll have to work it out.’
    She tried to decipher the black letters of a sign as they steamed through a station. Milton Keynes, she guessed. Milton Keynes: home of the Open University’s headquarters.
    ‘Did I tell you his explanation for his sudden urge to return to Orkney?’ she asked.
    ‘No.’
    ‘He told Liz he wanted to go somewhere quiet so he could have some space to think about leaving the Force; taking early retirement and doing something else.’
    ‘Is he old enough to retire? He’s still in his forties, isn’t he?’
    ‘Forty-six. Policemen always find some way of retiring early. Health