Thursday legends

63

'Don't be crazy, Bob. No way will I cut that plaster off for you; I have to work in the Royal Infirmary. Granted, your leg is not broken, granted, you probably will be kicking footballs around in two to three weeks; but it's still possible that you could have damaged ligaments which could cause long-term problems if you take liberties with them. The orthopaedic guys said you must wear that for a week, and a week it is.'

'Sarah, come on. It's itching like…'

'No!' She looked at the plaster. 'I'll tell you what; it's loosened off a bit; I'll pour just a little baby oil into it. That might ease it.'

'Anything; I'll try anything.'

She took a bottle of Johnson's oil from her dressing table and soaked a piece of cotton wool, then rubbed it around his leg, above the plaster, as he sat on the edge of the bed. 'Ahh!!' he sighed as the balm made its way down. 'That's my girl.'

He lay back and settled down on the divan, leaving his plastered leg hanging over. 'I think I'll go into the office tomorrow,' he said. 'I'll get a car to pick me up.'

'And hobble around, putting weight on that leg?' she exclaimed. 'No, you will not.'

'God, you're a hard woman. I wonder if Alec Smith's wife was like you; maybe that's what made him such a morose bugger.'

She snorted. 'People like the late DCI Smith are not made: they're born. This may not be very scientific, but I do believe in human nature.' She took off her dressing gown and slipped, naked, into bed beside him. 'Take our younger son, for example; he's you in miniature, already.'

He smiled as she switched the light off. 'I wonder how the new one will turn out?'

'Ahh,' said Sarah. 'She'll be like her mother; a more placid and co-operative baby I have never seen. Let's hope that the next two are like her.'

'The next two?' he gasped. 'One, okay, but… It's tough, paying university fees out of a pension, and I'll be retiring by the time Seonaid's at that stage.'

'I'd sort of hoped you'd be retiring before then.'

Suddenly she was aware that he was sitting bolt upright in the dark. 'What is it?' she asked, anxiously.

'It's you. Something you said. Oh, you little cracker.'

He switched on the light once more and scrambled for his address book in the drawer of the bedside table. She watched as he flicked through the pages until he reached the 'Mc' section, then picked up the telephone and dialled.

'Mario,' he said at last. 'DCC here. Sorry if I woke you, but it'll be worth it. I've just remembered something Alec Smith said to me a long time back. I was quizzing him one day about SB security.

'I remember it now, as clear as day. He gave me a long look and he said, "The only way anyone'll ever crack my safe, sir, is if they know my mother's Co-op number". Alec's mother lived in Lochgelly, in Fife. She died four years ago. I wonder how long the Co-operative Society holds on to the records of departed members?'