Death's Door

Sixty-two

‘Ray, you’re upset: maybe you should stay with me tonight after all. You don’t have to go back.’

‘I do, Becky,’ Wilding replied quietly. ‘Thanks for breaking your neck to get me here, and thanks for pulling all those strings to get me on the last flight. I need to be back in Edinburgh tonight. I was Stevie’s neighbour. .’

‘What?’

‘You’d say “oppo”; it means the same. And it means that I belong in Edinburgh. You’re a cop too: you know that. I was with him when he took the decision to go roaring off to Wooler, and I was involved in all the process that led up to it. I’m not just a police officer: I’m a witness to the events that led to his death.’

He was aware of the orange-coated air steward fidgeting nearby, waiting to check him on board, but he ignored him and took Becky in his arms. ‘This has been a very different day,’ he told her. ‘I’d like to see you again, and to have another look at the view from the London Eye. Is that on, do you think?’

‘Absolutely, but I’ll probably see you in Edinburgh first. Whenever Stevie’s funeral is, I’m going to be there, and that’s a solemn promise.’

‘I’ll let you know as soon as I do. And I’ll make sure that Maggie knows who you are too.’

‘Maggie?’

‘His wife. Oh, fuck, his widow. And she’s pregnant too.’

‘Oh, she isn’t! Jesus, that’s awful.’ She paused. ‘You know, Ray, I’m thankful for just one thing. If you didn’t get sick on helicopters, you’d probably have gone through that door alongside him.’

To her surprise, his eyes filled with tears once more. ‘No, Becky,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t be thankful for that. I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my days. I’ve never been on a helicopter in my life; I just said that so I could be with you.’

‘Okay, love, that’s okay. It’s done with, and you were.’

‘The worst of it is, or maybe the best. . I’m as confused as fuck and I don’t know. . Stevie knew it perfectly well, and he still went along with it. Because that’s the sort of bloke he was.’