Thursday legends

49

Karen Neville rarely smoked; occasionally in the pub after a couple of drinks, but never at home. She slammed her fourth cigarette of the day into the ashtray, knowing that none of them had done her any good.

'Karen!' she cried aloud. 'It'll be the drink next.'

She could restrain herself no longer; she picked up the phone and called Neil Mcllhenney. He sounded not in the least surprised to hear her voice.

'Hello, girl,' he said, kindly. 'Doing your head in, is it?'

'And how.'

'I wish I could help, really, but you've just got to be patient.'

'Neil, he really is all right isn't he? No-one's keeping anything back about him, are they?'

'No, love. I promise you they're not. Believe me, he's okay.' He hesitated. 'I saw him myself last night.'

'You did?' she exclaimed. 'Where?'

'Gullane. He's out at Bob's. But you must not — understand, must not — try to phone him there. Wait till he gets back to Edinburgh; that'll probably be some time today.'

She heard him hesitate. 'But when he does get back home, Karen. What are you going to say to him?'

She fell silent, realising. 'I don't know,' she murmured, at last.

He grunted. 'You don't? Well, it's bloody obvious to me. I don't know if it's going to make you any happier, girl, but I do know you've got to get it out.' And then he chuckled. 'But you never know. You might get a surprise… stranger things have happened.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean there's always a chance he might beat you to the punch.'